


Beau and the Beetle

by JamieHasCatEyes



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Controversial content: Passive murder & assisted suicide, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Happy Ending, Magic, Mature Audiences: MA 15+, Mourning, No kwami, No miraculous AU, No superheroes, Reverse Beauty and the Beast AU, multiple POVs, urban fantasy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-08-29 04:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 63,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16736832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieHasCatEyes/pseuds/JamieHasCatEyes
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been missing, presumed dead, for the last six months. In a world where mystery and magic reign, Marinette's fate and whereabouts remain unknown, leaving her loved ones to pick up the pieces and struggle to adapt to life without her.





	1. Prologue: Alya

**Author's Note:**

> This fic turned out much darker than I thought it would, and addresses some pretty serious themes. Because it took such a dark turn, I didn't have as much fun writing it, and it shows.  
> If you're sensitive to triggers, or disagree with discussions of euthanasia and passive murder, then I strongly advise against this fic. If you dislike any aspect of this, either with the content, or how the characters are portrayed, then hit that back button immediately.  
> Thank you for your attention.

Modern day Paris was a city of magic and mystery. Witches, warlocks, and mages travelled from all over the world to experience the power born of the necropolis beneath their feet, and was second only to New Orleans for practitioners of the occult.

However, forces neither magical nor mundane had been enough to save Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Alya stared miserably at the vacant seat beside her, Caline Bustier’s lecture going unheard, as she recalled the last time she had seen Marinette.

Everything had been so normal that day. The sun shone, the birds twittered, and school went on like it always did.

But the following day, Marinette had not come in.

Alya went to her home to see if she was ill, but the shop was dark and the doors were locked. Alya called her mobile and landline numbers, but they all rang out, unanswered.

Eventually, Marinette’s phone told her the number was no longer in service.

When she did finally manage to contact Sabine and Tom, she had been enraged while they had been inconsolable. They informed her that Marinette had gone out for a walk, but had never come home. They had called the police, as well as various professional magic users, but none of them ever found a trace of her.

After three months, the case was no longer a priority. After six months, Alya still mourned her best friend, while her classmates picked themselves up and began to move on. She remained at the desk they had shared, even after Nino invited her to sit with him. To move felt like a betrayal, like she was finally admitting that Marinette was lost for good. Except, Alya wasn’t ready to accept that yet. So, she remained where she was.

It proved to be for the best when a new boy enrolled in her class. He took the seat next to Nino, and introduced himself as Adrien. They’d been good friends ever since.

Alya was happy Nino had made a friend, but she envied their relationship keenly. It felt like they were leading the life she and Marinette should have had.

Alya shook her head; she couldn’t begrudge them their happiness. Certainly, she didn’t want them to feel the pain she endured on an almost daily basis. Her pain had ebbed slightly in recent weeks, allowing her to feel something other than utter despair, but the loneliness remained.

She sighed, and drew her attention back to the lecture. She would allow herself to grieve again later.


	2. Adrien

Adrien had begged incessantly to be able to attend school for the last few months. He yearned to establish connections with people his own age, make friends, and have fun. He saw the idyllic life play out in television shows and movies, desperately wishing he could be a part of it.

For a long time, Gabriel had refused his requests, informing him that he was above associating with the lower classes. Thwarted, Adrien would slink to his room, to try and think of a compelling argument.

One day, while watching some hack psychologist on daytime tv, inspiration struck. Excited, he ran to Gabriel’s office to once again plead his case. He argued that if he were cooped up all day with just his brother for companionship, then he couldn’t grow into a well-rounded, properly socialised person. He needed the experience of school to teach life lessons he would never get from a book, it could expose him to other ways of thinking, and broaden his horizons.

Either Gabriel thought his argument was well thought out and compelling, or he was tired of Adrien’s constantly wearing him down. He’d relented with poor grace, but Adrien was too excited to care.

He hugged Gabriel tight for a moment, then sprinted off to tell his big brother the good news.

Felix was unimpressed. He levelled a stare at Adrien from over the spine of his book, apparently annoyed at being interrupted.

Adrien ignored the look and shared his news. Still, Felix regarded him with that flat look. When asked if he would like to accompany Adrien to school, Felix shook his head emphatically, and stated he had no desire to be surrounded by common idiots.

Adrien frowned. He didn’t understand why Felix would decline such an opportunity, or why he would insult people he’d never even met. Furthermore, the school couldn’t be all that bad. Chloe went there, and surely the mayor of Paris would not allow his only child to attend a substandard school.

Felix, however, was adamant in his refusal, preferring to focus his attention on his future career within Gabriel's company.

Adrien shook his head, and let him be. He would look forward to his new life alone. He was used to being alone, anyway.

 

* * *

 

Adrien woke up that Monday morning, elated. Excited nervousness twisted his stomach into knots, but he was not going to back out now, not after he’d fought so hard for so long.

He arrived at the front doors of the school with a bounce in his step, ready to begin making friends.

The reality of school life was very different from what he’d expected.

A shroud of misery hung over the school. There was an undercurrent of something amiss, even as students milled about the courtyard, talking in subdued tones, amongst themselves. It was subtle, but choking at the same time. It made him wonder if one of their number had passed away recently.

Emilie had always said he was an empathic soul, and after the loss of his mother, Adrien felt especially tuned in to the emotions of others. What was displayed before him were the vestiges of a mourning period, as people went about their lives trying valiantly to pick up the pieces and move on.

He hoped it was all in his head, or that he was misreading the tableau. But when Chloe greeted him with lukewarm enthusiasm, he knew something terrible had occurred.

It seemed too raw for him to bring it up in conversation, so Adrien refrained from asking. But no one ever spoke of the tragedy, like it was taboo.

 

* * *

 

After his fourth week at  _Collège Françoise Dupont_ , Adrien pulled Nino aside while they were in the locker room, dismissed for the day.

‘Hey, can I ask you something? It’s a bit sensitive,’ he asked, quietly.

Nino faced him with an expectant smile. ‘What’s up?’

Adrien rubbed the back of his head. It had taken a long time, but their classmates were beginning to smile and talk normally. Gradually, they were getting over their loss, giving Adrien an opportunity finally bring up the subject that had puzzled him the last few weeks.

‘When I first started coming here, everyone seemed like they were in mourning. They were all quiet, and I saw girls trying not to cry. It sounds terrible, but I have to ask, did someone die?’

Nino let out a slow breath and leaned against the lockers, his gaze dropping to the floor. Immediately, Adrien wanted to take the question back. Nino looked like all the world’s woes had been placed on his shoulders.

‘No one knows,’ he murmured.

Intrigued, Adrien leaned closer. ‘What?’

Nino looked at him with sad eyes. ‘What happened to Marinette.’

His eyes widened as he took an involuntary step back. He was appalled to hear a girl’s name, though he didn’t know what he had been expecting.

‘Marinette?’ he echoed, compelled to try the name out for himself.

Nino nodded. ‘She used to sit beside Alya, in the place directly behind you. They were tighter than you and I could ever be; better than sisters, even.’

Adrien twitched his shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable. ‘You don’t have to go on.’

Nino heaved a sigh. ‘No, it’s probably past time someone told you. Marinette lived in the bakery across the road. Her parents own and operate the whole business, but somehow, Marinette was always late for school. She was clever, kind, resourceful, and had big dreams for her future. She wanted to be a fashion designer.’

Adrien’s eyes slid away as he hugged himself. ‘She sounds amazing.’

‘She really was, and could’ve made it, too. She made most of her own clothes, and a few other things as well.’ Nino paused to wipe under his glasses.

Adrien kept his gaze averted, pretending he hadn’t noticed.

‘She was really pretty, too, but majorly clumsy. That girl could trip over a flat surface. Still, she was one of the most well-liked people in this school.’

Adrien brought his attention back to Nino when he paused for a moment too long.

‘One day, a little over six month ago, Marinette didn’t come to school. Alya tried to call and visit, but she couldn’t get through to anyone for weeks. Finally, Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng told her that Marinette had gone missing. Apparently, she’d gone on one of her inspiration walks, and just didn’t come back. We all looked for ages, especially Alya, but not even the professionals found any trace of her. It was like she’d just vanished.’

Adrien didn’t know what to say. He leaned against the lockers beside Nino, pressing firmly against his shoulder.

‘Thanks fort telling me,’ he eventually said.

Nino’s throat worked as he tried to swallow, and nodded. Then, he pulled himself upright. ‘Come on, let’s go home.’

Adrien thought long and hard that night, knowing there was nothing he could do, but wishing it were otherwise all the same.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Adrien approached Alya cautiously.

‘Good morning,’ he greeted her, with an amicable wave.

She glanced up at him with a feeble smile. ‘S’up, Vanilla Bean?’

His face relaxed into a genuine smile. Her giving him a weird nickname seemed like a good sign. ‘Is Nino here yet?’

Alya shook her head. ‘He’s usually pretty slow in the morning, like a bipedal reptile.’

‘Excuse you,’ huffed an indignant voice.

Adrien turned to see Nino standing behind him, arms akimbo and hands curled into fists, as he glowered at Alya.

‘I’m not hearing a denial,’ she sang as she cupped a hand around her ear.

Adrien laughed as they bickered, the last of his tension seeping away. Always before, Alya had felt unapproachable. She was closed off and depressed, unconsciously discouraging unnecessary familiarity. Now, he knew why. Felix had acted similarly after Emilie passed away.

However, as she walked along, laughing at Nino’s expense, she seemed more open and friendlier. It looked like she was finally beginning to heal.

Smiling, Adrien followed a short distance behind them. After his mother had died, the grief had been overwhelming. It affected what was left of his family in ways none of them could have foreseen.

It had made him braver, giving him the courage to finally beg Gabriel to let him come to school. The arguments, and some minor fights, had been hard, but he was glad they’d happened, since it had led to not only his own healing, but that of Nino’s, and by extension, Alya’s, as well.


	3. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felix chose not to accompany Adrien to school, preferring to focus on his career.

Felix, Adrien’s older brother by twenty minutes, was as taciturn as their father. He took after Gabriel not only in habit, but also in appearance, and choice of dress. His habits were not subconscious efforts to emulate his father, though.

He was going to take over  _Gabriel Fashion_  one day, and wished to look the part. Gabriel’s clothes and mannerisms demanded a certain amount of respect from employees and partners alike, and since Felix was going to be the CEO one day, he had to dress, and act like it to be taken seriously. His efforts were a deliberate attempt to reflect Gabriel’s authority, and pass it off as his own.

He approached Gabriel’s office after being summoned, ruthlessly tamping down eager excitement, in favour of proving he was a mature adult, despite still being in his adolescence. He smoothed out his features, and knocked.

Gabriel called for him to enter, his tone bland, and eyes dull as Felix neared.

Standing before Gabriel's desk, hands clasped behind his back, Felix asked, ‘you wanted to see me, Father?’

Gabriel set his tablet aside, and steepled his fingers under his chin, as he looked at his eldest son. ‘Yes. I wanted to discuss your future role in my company.’

Felix cocked an eyebrow. ‘What of it?’

His father’s steady gaze was cool. ‘I am uncertain as to whether you are suitable to be the next chief executive officer, after I’m gone.’

Felix’s mouth fell open as his stomach lurched. ‘I have been studying the business for years in order to be your successor,’ he stated, shock quickly morphing into outrage.

Gabriel nodded. ‘You have, but you feel no passion for it, no love for the industry. Nor have you done anything to alter my perception.’

Felix’s hands fell to his sides. ‘But you’ve always wanted to keep the company in the family. If not me, then who?’

It was Gabriel's turn to lift an eyebrow. ‘Your brother has been the face of my brand for years now. He has done more with his modelling to further the company’s interests than your studying ever has.’

The breath left Felix in a whoosh. ‘Adrien? He has no interest in running the business. He wouldn’t even know how. All he can do is play games and gad about with his friends. He’d run the company into the ground within a week.’

Gabriel sighed as though he were trying to maintain his rapidly diminishing patience. ‘He would have you to help with the day to day running and administrative tasks, until such time as he is competent enough to stand on his own.’

Felix shook his head in astonishment. ‘Father, this is insane. I’m the one you’ve been grooming for this role, the one with the acumen, intelligence, and drive to keep things going after you’re gone. I deserve to be your heir. Me.’

‘Then prove it.’

Blinking, Felix stuttered, ‘prove it, how?’

‘Prove to me that you’re worthy. Prove your passion, your interest, and determination. You’re dedicated, yes, but I have doubts. Remove those doubts, and the position is yours.’

‘How am I supposed to do that?’ demanded Felix.

Gabriel maintained steady eye-contact, unmoved. ‘I suggest you think of something, and fast. The board is demanding I name a successor, and I’m running on borrowed time as it is. Whatever you do, it better be convincing, or Adrien will become the next head of  _Gabriel’s_ , understand? You may go.’

He picked up his tablet and resumed perusing whatever he’d been examining before Felix entered.

Fuming silently, Felix spun on his heel and exited the office. He had never thought he would have to prove his competence and suitability to succeed his father’s place.

‘Unbelievable,’ he spat, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

He’d always thought Adrien was like a golden retriever – big, blond, loyal, and hopelessly stupid.

‘How could Father even think of leaving the company to him? He’s an idiot. I’ve worked tirelessly for years studying everything there is to know about running a large corporation. What is he thinking?’

He knocked the books from his desk with an angry swipe of his arm. Grinding his teeth, he sat in his desk chair to think.

‘How can I prove myself? I need to make it impressive.’

He knew that if he didn’t make some grand gesture, Gabriel would pass him over in favour of Adrien. He tapped his foot, and rubbed his chin impatiently, thinking hard.


	4. Bridgette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridgette comes to offer assistance to Tom and Sabine.

When Bridgette had first heard of Marinette’s disappearance, she’d cried for days. She loved her second cousin dearly, and had received equal amounts of love in return. They had spent holidays together, playing, whispering, and were almost inseparable. Bridgette thought of Marinette as a sister, keeping in close contact even after her family moved to another city.

The ache in her chest had not lessened at all since the time of her disappearance. Some days, she found she had to take a moment to just breathe, the yawning chasm where her heart used to be nothing more than a painful void.

Bridgette couldn’t imagine how Sabine and Tom felt. They had so desperately wanted a child, and Marinette had not been easily conceived. Sabine and Tom went to many doctors, fertility clinics, even a witch specialising in childbearing, and spent huge sums of money on IVF treatments. They’d agonised over every failed attempt, but their desire for a child kept them going.

After Sabine successfully carried a child to term, the whole family had celebrated – those who lived in France, anyway.

Sabine had moved out of China to get away from her wealthy and influential, but overbearing parents when she was younger, her cousin, Bridgette’s mother, following shortly after. They were both disowned by their parents, who accused them of disloyalty and cut them off from the family fortune after they married local men.

Bridgette’s extended family had never acknowledged her or Marinette, and pointedly did not celebrate their births, instead denouncing them both as abominations.

Bridgette had not been told of her family’s drama, as most of it happened before her birth. She overheard a great amount after Marinette’s disappearance though, when her parents had thought she was tucked up and asleep.

She pondered long and hard after that. Her mother never had any difficulties conceiving children. She’d birthed Bridgette, and her younger brother, without complications.

In the wee hours of the morning, Bridgette made the decision to visit Sabine and Tom, to help them in any way she could.

Her own parents didn’t need her for anything, and they still had her brother to dote on. So, the following morning, she had packed a bag, and caught the train to Paris. She knew her aunt and uncle had been struggling with the workload in the daily running of their bakery. She was only going to stay until they hired an assistant, or managed to get their bearings and cope with just the two of them. Then, she would return home, knowing she had done all she could. It was infuriating how little that was.

 

* * *

 

Bridgette wheeled her suitcase along behind her as she walked down a barely familiar street. It had been years since she had visited her aunt and uncle at their home. Family reunions were typically held at her place, as they had the bigger house.

She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket and checked it again. The bakery’s address was scribbled down in pink pen, a crude map sketched below. Bridgette looked at the building to her immediate right. The numbers above the doors were getting closer.

Confirming she was heading in the right direction, she nodded once and kept walking.

The bakery finally came into view. It was quaint, and the designs painted on the windows were new. They were new to her, anyway. Something about them left her feeling sure they had originally been created by Marinette. Bridgette pushed the door open, and walked inside.

It was smaller than she remembered, but the smell triggered a torrent of memories – of her and Marinette pilfering warm pastries from the kitchen, running away and giggling with wild abandon before they were caught. Sitting with Tom and Marinette on high stools in the large kitchen as Tom taught them how to knead bread dough. Marinette’s enthusiastic and bright smile when she successfully accomplished a task, and her enthusiasm for sewing, which sparked Bridgette’s own interest in the field of fashion design.

Tears stung Bridgette’s eyes as the door closed gently behind her. She wiped them quickly, before Tom or Sabine saw.

‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Aunt Sabine, Uncle Tom?’

Sabine emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. ‘Bridgette, Dear. It’s so nice to see you again. How are you?’

Bridgette stooped to Sabine’s height to give her a hug. ‘It’s good to see you, too. I’m fine, what about you?’

Sabine let her go and stood back, subtly wiping her eyes. ‘Oh, you know. Coping. How was your trip?’

Bridgette let her change the subject. ‘Uneventful. Though, I suppose that’s what you want, when travelling, so I guess it was good.’

Sabine’s answering chuckle was empty. ‘Indeed, it is. How are your parents, brother, and Grandfather Wang?’

Bridgette filled her in on the family gossip as she followed Sabine into the kitchen. Tom was out picking up supplies after their deliveryman had taken ill, but would be back soon. Sabine had been left to fulfil the tasks of three people on her own while he was gone.

In times past, Tom would have baked, Sabine would have managed the storefront, and Marinette made herself useful however she could, whether it be restocking shelves, sweeping, decorating pastries, or performing any of the hundreds of cleaning chores inherent in shop ownership.

Her expression falling, Bridgette picked up a cloth and began to wipe down the tabletop.

‘You don’t have to start right away, Dear,’ Sabine murmured. ‘You can take your things upstairs and settle in first.’

Bridgette looked over her shoulder at the suitcase she had left in the doorway. ‘I’ll take my stuff up, but then I’m coming right back. This is why I came, after all.’

Sabine’s face eased into a tired smile. ‘As you wish. Thank you, for coming Dear. We appreciate it.’

Bridgette nodded, then caught the handle of her suitcase. She hauled it upstairs, and nudged open the living room door with her hip. Taking a step inside, she paused. Swallowing, she glanced up the stairs to Marinette’s room, but the lump in her throat only bobbed painfully. She took a hesitant step toward the closed trapdoor, then stopped.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned away, and left her bag on the floor beside the bannister.

It didn’t feel right to go into Marinette’s room without Sabine’s explicit permission. It had been reluctantly agreed upon that she would stay in Marinette’s old room for the duration of her stay, but it didn’t feel right to impose.

Bridgette drew in a deep breath, and turned her back on the room. She would focus on helping Sabine for now, and deal with her sleeping arrangements later.


	5. Adrien

Adrien adapted quickly to school life after his talk with Alya and Nino, and his integration ran much more smoothly. His understanding of their grief helped, especially after he confided in Alya and Nino about the death of his mother. Soon, he had solid friends in them both.

Life at home, however, was very different. While Gabriel had always been aloof, he had become increasingly colder since Emilie's death. But it was Felix who concerned Adrien most.

Felix had always been more like Gabriel – distant and arrogant. But lately, he regarded Adrien with calculating, even hostile eyes.

Adrien felt hurt by the sudden coldness, but doggedly persisted in trying to cheer him up.

‘S’up, Felix. What’cha doing?’ Adrien asked, resting his elbows on the library table where Felix sat, reading.

Gabriel had insisted that young men of standing required a library, with every source of knowledge readily available. Adrien had never thought anything of it, until he had visited Nino’s humble apartment. It was a surreal experience. 

Felix raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that a trick question? I should think it was obvious.’ He glanced significantly at the book laid open before him.

Adrien rolled his eyes, forcing an impudent grin. ‘Fine. What’cha reading, and why?’

With a disdainful harrumph, Felix turned back to his book. ‘You’re spending too much time with the uncouth masses. You sound like a commoner’s get.’

Adrien frowned, offended on his friends’ behalf. ‘For crying out loud, Felix. I was just asking a simple question.’

‘Your mindless prattling bothers me. Leave.’ Felix picked up his book, pointedly ignoring him.

‘Arsehole,’ Adrien muttered under his breath, as he turned his back.

‘I heard that,’ called Felix as Adrien walked away.

Adrien scrunched up his nose and mimed Felix’s last sentence with a sarcastic tip of his head.

He retreated to his room and closed the door firmly behind him. Gabriel and Felix had changed dramatically after Emilie's death, and not for the better. Adrien, more like his mother, craved familial warmth and closeness. However, his house only grew colder with every passing day. He wondered how much more he could take before he moved out, or went insane.

He turned on his computer, and Emilie's loving countenance lit up the screen. He touched the monitor with trembling fingers, yearning for her loving comfort.

Despite the amount of magic in the city, no one had been able to prevent the inevitable. Emilie was diagnosed with a brain tumour far too late, and nothing magical or scientific was enough to save her.

Tears welled up, pricking his eyes painfully. Emilie had accepted her fate gracefully, only crying in private when she thought no one else could see. Felix had shut himself in his room, refusing to speak to everyone, including Emilie.

Gabriel, Adrien feared, had gone temporarily insane. For months before Emilie’s passing, he had scoured the library, internet, and every other resource for a cure. No price was too high, and no amount of moral ambiguity had stalled him. His eyes took on the feverish light of a fanatic, and he ranted alone in his office for hours, gesticulating wildly.

Throughout it all, Adrien clung to Emilie and cried. She would stroke his hair and murmur soothing shushing noises, but he was inconsolable.

Then, she was gone.

The days leading up to the funeral were a blur. Everything faded out of existence after he was informed of her death over breakfast by one of the household staff. Bitterly, he had thought Gabriel ought to have been the one to tell him, but after one look at this father’s bloodshot eyes, he realised he hadn’t been able to.

Nothing felt real. Time moved too fast and too slow simultaneously, his own movements sluggish, and his brain was slow to process even the simplest tasks. Only repetition and muscle memory got him out of bed every morning.

The funeral was dark and sombre. Women wept, and men maintained stoic expressions, though their eyes swam. He, Gabriel, and Felix sat in the front pew looking steadily ahead.

Felix’s brow had been drawn down in fierce lines, and later he would snap that he resented Emilie for leaving. Again, he shut himself away, and refused all company.

Gabriel had done the same, though his grief was obvious, not disguised as hatred like Felix.

Alone, Adrien drifted to his room to wait out the insurmountable wave that was his own sadness.

Adrien shook the memories away. Time had moved on, and though his grief was still there, the edges weren’t as sharp as they once were. He could look back on his memories with her and smile, now. He was sure he had his friends to thank, as without them, he never would have known companionship, acceptance, or platonic love. They had become the family he had lost, yet was still bound to.

He wondered how Marinette’s family had coped with her loss. He fervently hoped they were there for each other, were a pillar of support through what was sure to be the worst experience of their lives.

According to Nino, Marinette had been an only child, which was sure to hurt her parents that much more. Maybe they’d tried the same things Gabriel had, and exhausted every last avenue they could think of trying to bring her home. Perhaps they’d gone a little mad in their sorrow, after they realised they could do no more. Adrien hoped not.

Briefly, he considered visiting their bakery, to ask how they were doing. Quickly, he scrapped the idea. People don’t often appreciate strangers interrupting their mourning period, or presuming to know how they felt.

Even though death was said to be the great equaliser, their situations were not comparable. Losing a child was different to losing a parent, and no two people experienced loss in the same way. Felix was proof enough of that.

An overly dramatic part of his mind wondered if his family would have mourned him, had he been the one to die. Emilie would’ve been grief-stricken, and Gabriel would have been like the other men at Emilie’s funeral – straight backed, impassive face, with over-bright eyes. Sad, yes, but probably not distraught.

Felix was a quandary. Although they had never been especially close, in times past Adrien knew Felix would have mourned his passing. But lately, he wasn’t so sure.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Adrien pushed away from his desk to turn and pick up his schoolbag. Dwelling on maudlin thoughts was a normal part of growing up, but it wouldn’t get his homework done.

A small smile lit up his face as he concentrated on the mundane task. Emilie would have been proud to see where he was now. The thought warmed him after months of distant frostiness.

Suddenly, he felt like he could keep going, despite his family’s growing estrangement.


	6. Sabine

Bridgette was a godsend, and had made herself invaluable during the last few weeks. She helped in the home as well as the bakery, was good with customers, and learnt quickly. Without her, Sabine was sure she would be pulling her own hair out by now.

The workload increased as the popularity of their shop re-established itself. They’d had to close down for a while after Marinette’s disappearance, as it took some time to come to terms with life without her. Still, when they felt ready to reopen, they had done it quietly with no fanfare or flashy advertisements. It would have been gauche.

‘Bridgette seems to be fitting in nicely,’ Tom observed, as he mixed a bowl of cake batter.

Sabine looked up from her inventory list, and nodded. ‘Yes, she is.’

‘How long do you think she’ll stay?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replied, tilting her head back as she thought. ‘Why do you ask?’

Tom looked uncomfortable, and busied himself by pouring the batter into a pan to avoid having to make eye contact. ‘Well, she’s missing a lot of school. If she doesn’t go back, there’ll be consequences.’

Sabine hummed, acknowledging his point. ‘We can ask her.’

‘Ask what?’ Bridgette chirped, entering the kitchen with an empty tray. ‘We’re out of croissants.’

Tom turned around to pull a fresh batch from the oven. ‘We’re just concerned about your education,’ he told her as he slid the steaming pastries onto a cooling rack.

Bridgette cocked her head. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re missing too much school, Dear,’ Sabine replied. ‘If you don’t return home and pick up your attendance, you may be forced to repeat the year.’

Bridgette’s face fell. ‘Do you not want me here anymore?’

‘Oh no, it’s not that,’ Sabine rushed to reassure her. ‘We just don’t want you to fail school, especially not on our account.’

‘But I can’t just leave,’ she argued, stubbornly.

‘Perhaps,’ Tom interjected, looking more discomforted than before, ‘she could attend school here?’

Sabine’s breath caught, and Bridgette’s eyes widened.

‘We could enrol her in the school across the road. She’s the right age,’ Tom went on.

Sabine squeezed her eyes shut and turned away. Bridgette was only a couple of months older than Marinette, and would slide in easily with the other students. However, it didn’t feel right.

‘I don’t know,’ Bridgette replied slowly, evidently feeling the same way.

‘I’m not saying it has to be permanent,’ Tom explained. ‘Just until such a time as you feel ready to go home, and we can manage the shop by ourselves. Like Sabine said, we don’t want to hold you back.’

Bridgette chewed her lip, her gaze drifting to one side. ‘Can I think about it?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Tom assured her.

She nodded, then began placing the still-hot croissants on the display tray. Silently, she took the laden server back to the shop.

‘Isn’t this a little sudden?’ asked Sabine, as she turned back to her inventory list.

Tom hung his head. ‘It’s been almost a month,’ he murmured. ‘She should either return home and resume her schooling there, or remain here and do her best to keep from failing. I know how awkward this is, but we need to consider her future, too.’

Sighing heavily, Sabine turned back to her task. Tom was right, she knew, but Bridgette slept in Marinette’s old room, performed her old chores, and used her equipment. It felt like Bridgette was slowly replacing Marinette, and it hurt.

Tom rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘Everything will be all right, my Sweet. Marinette would understand.’

Sabine released another sigh and nodded. Bridgette did need to return to school, and they weren’t ready to be without her assistance yet. Marinette would have understood, but that didn’t ease the pang of guilt in her chest.

‘I just wish this whole thing had never happened,’ she whispered, leaning against Tom as tears stung her eyes.

Wrapping his arms around her, Tom agreed. ‘I know, Love. None of this should’ve happened.’

She sniffled and wiped her eyes, blaming herself for what happened. Unfortunately, no amount of reassuring platitudes would change her mind.

‘We did the right thing in the end, didn’t we?’ she asked, still yearning for validation and justification.

Tom’s careful strokes down her arms paused, then hesitantly resumed. ‘Under the circumstances, I don’t know what else we could have done.’

‘A stronger witch, or warlock perhaps?’

He shook his head, sorrowfully. ‘We made enquiries, and all the answers were the same. There’s nothing they could have done. I think we have to accept the loss, and move on.’

A sob closed Sabine’s throat. She hiccupped and wiped fresh tears from her eyes before they could spill. It wouldn’t do to have tear tracks on her face.

Subtly, Tom wiped his own face with a corner of his apron.

With a melancholy smile, Sabine reached up to cup his cheek. Yes, they had done everything they could, and the loss hurt like nothing else ever had. But, they still had each other. They would rebuild their lives, and learn to go on without Marinette.

Sabine didn’t fool herself into thinking it would be easy or fast, however, they needed to make a start. Enrolling Bridgette in school was as good a place as any to commence healing.


	7. Bridgette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridgette begins her first day at school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this piece of shit fic is at 45 chapters. How the hell did that happen?  
> Sorry, everyone.

Bridgette took a deep breath to steel herself. Hefting her bag strap higher on her shoulder, she approached the school.

She’d had reservations about leaving Tom and Sabine to run the shop on their own, but they assured her they had everything under control, and had operated like this for years before Marinette’s disappearance. So, Bridgette had packed her bag and headed out.

Her misgivings about attending Marinette’s old school were strong. She felt guilty enough just sleeping in her cousin’s old room, and fervently hoped she was not thought of as a replacement. Bridgette loved her aunt and uncle, but she wouldn’t be their surrogate daughter. It wasn’t healthy.

Still, she couldn’t deny that she’d missed weeks of school. Her grades were sure to suffer, so she couldn’t afford to make matters worse for herself. So, here she was, striding toward a group of students with an air of confidence she didn’t feel.

‘Hello,’ she greeted them, with a jaunty little wave. ‘I’m Bridgette. I just started attending here today.’

The group of girls turned to her, a blonde in pink returning her wave.

‘Good morning, I’m Rose. Welcome to  _Collège Françoise Dupont._ It’s nice to meet you. Do you know which class you’re in?’

Flustered, Bridgette dug through her bag to pull out her class schedule. ‘Uhh, Madame Bustier’s class. Can you tell me where that is?’

Rose’s smile widened, as the other girls stirred restlessly behind her. ‘You’re with us. We’re in Madame Bustier’s class, too.’

Bridgette’s shoulders sagged in relief. ‘Really? That’s awesome.’

A shorter girl with colourful hair stepped forward. Extending her hand, she introduced herself. ‘Mylène Haprèle. Welcome to our school.’

Accepting the proffered hand, Bridgette shook it eagerly. ‘Bridgette Cheng. It’s nice to meet you.’

The other girls shifted, muttering uncomfortably amongst themselves. Suddenly, Bridgette’s apprehension came back in a rush.

‘You wouldn’t be a relation of Marinette’s, would you?’ asked a diminutive girl with pink hair.

Rose gasped, appalled. ‘Alix! Please excuse her bluntness,’ she trailed off, fidgeting nervously.

Bridgette wilted under their collective stares. ‘She was my cousin,’ she whispered.

Their restless shuffling stilled as they stared at her.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Rose uttered, sincerely.

A tall girl with dark hair jabbed Alix in the ribs with her elbow.

‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ she muttered, glaring at the taller girl.

Bridgette shrugged and looked at her feet. ‘It’s ok. I know it’s a shock.’

They stood in awkward silence for a long moment, avidly avoiding each other’s gazes.

‘Hey guys,’ called a cheerful voice. ‘What’s going on?’

Another girl, warm skinned with auburn hair, strode toward them, her hand raised in greeting.

None of the girls answered, still reluctant to meet one another’s eyes. Bridgette’s stomach lurched, her anxiety peaking.

Eventually, Mylène stepped forward _. ‘'_ Bridgette, this is Alya, Marinette’s best friend. Alya, this is Bridgette, Marinette’s cousin. She’ll be attending school here from now on.’

Alya faced her with an indecipherable expression. It sent chills down Bridgette’s spine with how blank it was.

‘Nice to meet you,’ she uttered tonelessly, before turning around and heading inside.

‘She never really got over losing Marinette,’ Rose explained in hushed tones. ‘They were like sisters.’

Bridgette didn’t respond. It was strange to see evidence of Marinette’s life outside of the family home, and as irrational as it was, she felt jealous Marinette had befriended someone, and had been as close as sisters. Bridgette had always fancied herself as Marinette’s sister, and unreasonable resentment simmered in her gut.

The bell rang, yanking her from her thoughts. She was being petty and ridiculous. Of course, Marinette had a life outside of their family reunions. Bridgette herself had a close friend in Melodie.

Firmly setting her hypocrisy aside, Bridgette accompanied her new classmates inside. They showed her to their classroom, pointing out other locations of interest on the way, such as the library, the principal’s office, and the science labs.

A friendly woman with kind eyes awaited them in the classroom.

‘Good morning, students. Take your seats, please,’ she instructed them.

Bridgette hovered anxiously in the doorway. Seeing Alya seated alone at a bench confirmed her fear that she had been placed in Marinette’s former class. Suddenly, she wished she was back home.

Madame Bustier faced her with a patient smile, and waved her in.

‘Everyone, this is Bridgette Cheng. She’ll be joining us for a little while, until her family figures things out. Please show her the same courtesy and respect you would any other student.’

‘Cheng?’ exclaimed a tall boy in a red hoodie. ‘As in?’ He didn’t finish his sentence, his voice fading into the awkward silence.

Madame Bustier heaved a long-suffering sigh. ‘Yes, Kim. Bridgette is Marinette’s cousin. She’s been helping out in Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng’s business, and is unable to return home just yet. So, for the foreseeable future, she will be attending school here. Are there any more questions?’

Everyone shook their heads mutely.

‘Good. Now, Bridgette, would you like to find a seat?’

Sweeping her gaze over the available spots, she immediately decided against the place beside Alya. Her eyes were narrow and hostile, despite being focussed on the windows, rather than Bridgette. The place beside the large boy behind Alya was also out. He looked like a bully.

By process of elimination, she took the remaining seat next to a shy, red haired boy. She smiled as she stood beside his desk.

‘May I sit here?’

He nodded, and murmured a soft, ‘sure.’

Bridgette slid into her new place, and endeavoured to make as little noise as possible for the rest of the day.

She returned to the bakery for lunch, disheartened. She’d known enrolling in Marinette’s old school would be hard, but she’d hoped to make a good first impression, and show everyone she was a decent person.

Instead, they’d been all been leery and uncomfortable, particularly Alya. In turn, Alya made everyone around her uncomfortable, so they’d all avoided her in the end. So far, she’d not had an opportunity to prove herself or befriend anyone.

‘How was your first morning at school, Dear?’ Sabine asked, as she pushed through the front door.

Bridgette forced herself to smile. ‘I think it’ll take a while for them to get used to me, but they all seem nice enough.’

Sabine nodded, sagely. ‘It must be confronting for them, to be faced with a relative of their missing friend without warning. Give them time; they’ll warm up to you.’

Bridgette nodded in agreement, then spent the next hour helping in the kitchen.

After break was over, she returned to class with a feeling of dread. She now had a better idea of what to expect, which she supposed was the problem. Her classmates weren’t openly hostile, but they weren’t warm and welcoming either. They regarded her suspiciously, or more accurately, like a bad memory.

Bridgette understood their feelings, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Inhaling deeply, she headed out once more. Hopefully, they would adjust quickly.


	8. Alya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya despises the new girl, and tries one last-ditch effort to locate Marinette

Alya didn’t like the new girl. Not because of who she was, but on principle. Bridgette was living Marinette’s life, and regardless of whether it was by accident or design, it was an abhorrent thing to do.

Adding to the insult of Marinette’s memory, Bridgette looked so like Marinette, but also so very different. They had the same skin, hair, and eye colour, but Bridgette was shorter, her features more pointed and angular, and she wore her hair longer.

‘Quit scowling,’ Nino told her the following Monday, as he dug his elbow into her ribs.

She hissed in pain, and shoved him back. ‘I don’t like it. It’s not right,’ she snapped.

‘You don’t have to like it. Just stop looking like you want to snap her neck.’

Adrien approached, and sat down on Alya’s other side. ‘What’re we talking about?’

‘Nothing,’ Alya shot.

‘The new girl,’ Nino replied, at the same time.

Adrien’s eyes darted between them. ‘Ok,’ he drawled.

Nino sat up and looked at him. ‘Hey, you’re an objective party. What do you think of the new girl?’

Adrien shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I don’t think I have a right to say anything. I never knew Marinette.’

‘Exactly my point,’ exclaimed Nino.

Alya tuned them out. She didn’t want to hear Nino justify why they should blindly accept Bridgette into their midst. She was no replacement for Marinette, no matter her lineage or appearance.

Her respect for Tom and Sabine sank. She would never admit it aloud, but she thought it was sick how they could slot Bridgette into Marinette’s old life, and expect everything to be the same. It was like they thought their own daughter was expendable, and therefore, replaceable.

Alya’s lip curled as she watched Bridgette enter the courtyard. She was curled in on herself, her eyes darting about as if she expected an imminent attack. 

‘Weak,’ she muttered, venomously.

Nino elbowed her savagely in the side once more. ‘Stop it. You’re being unfair. Imagine how Mar would feel if she could see you now.’

Incensed, Alya surged to her feet. ‘How dare you use Marinette’s memory to guilt me? That’s low, Nino.’

The susurrus of their peers’ chatter ceased, as they all turned to stare. Alya felt her face heat up, then sank back into her seat. Slowly, the other students returned to their own conversations.

Alya dug a vindictive elbow into Nino’s side, earning a pained grunt in response.

‘Stop it, both of you,’ Adrien told them, firmly.

Alya pouted and crossed her arms, staring mutinously at her feet.

‘She started it,’ Nino replied, defensively.

Adrien levelled them both a reproving glare. ‘I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it. You’re behaving like children, and you’ll only hurt yourselves if you keep it up.’

Alya rolled her eyes. ‘You sound like my mum.’

Scowling, Adrien replied, ‘good. Someone has to be the adult here.’

They sank into silence after that. Finally, the bell for afternoon classes rang, and Alya was the first one to her feet. She marched up the stairs ahead of everyone, pointedly ignoring them all.

 _I suppose I shouldn’t expect boys to understand. They’ll never know what Marinette meant to me, the relationship we had. It’s not fair_.

She threw herself into her seat and retrieved her books from her bag, pretending not to see Nino’s accusing look, or the curious glances of the others.

It amazed, and appalled her, how much it hurt to no longer have Marinette around, even after more than six months. The pain was still as fresh as it was on the day she first heard the news. Some part of her refused to believe Marinette was gone for good, even though she knew the odds of survival diminished rapidly after the first forty-eight hours. The chances of Marinette being found alive was minuscule, and even if she were, there was no knowing what kind of condition she would be in.

Perhaps it would be a kindness if she had died.

However, the Schrödinger’s Marinette was an exquisite form of torture on its own. Alya, Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng, everyone who knew her had no closure. There was no body to bury, no culprit to blame, nor even a single clue to indicate her fate. It was cruel.

 

* * *

 

After school, Alya retreated to the library. She pulled a large map of the city from the map drawer, and spread it over one of the desks. Staring at it hard, she didn’t see anywhere along Marinette’s walking route where she could have fallen. There were no shafts or sewer lines where she could have gotten stuck or hurt, no place for a kidnapper to lie in wait for an unsuspecting victim. The route was straightforward, too, eliminating the possibility she had gotten lost. Marinette was clumsy, but she had a good sense of direction.

‘Alya, what’re you doing?’

She spun around at the unexpected interruption. Mylène, Rose, Juleka, and Alix had come up behind her, unheard.

‘Are you ok?’ Rose continued, laying a hand over Alya’s forehead.

‘I’m fine,’ Alya replied, brushing Rose’s hand away with an impatient swipe.

None of them looked convinced.

Suddenly, an idea struck. ‘Hey, Juleka. You’re studying to be a witch, right?’

Juleka’s eyes widened at the sudden acknowledgement, everyone turning to face her. ‘Yeah.’

‘Fantastic,’ Alya cried, dragging her by the elbow to stand in front of the map. ‘Do you know any locating spells?’

‘Yeah.’

Alya looked impatiently from her to the map, and back again. ‘Well? Get to it.’

‘She needs to know what she's looking for,’ Rose informed her.

‘Well, duh. You’re looking for Marinette, obviously.’

Alix tilted her head. ‘Wouldn’t she need something of Marinette's for that?’

‘Yeah,’ Juleka agreed, with a nod.

Alya began rummaging through her bag. ‘Are you a witch, or a tracking hound?’ she muttered.

At the bottom of her bag, she found an old phone charm. It was a small metal and enamel ladybeetle on a pink string that had been laying on Sabine’s loungeroom floor when Alya found it. She had snatched it up while Sabine’s back was turned, on the day she finally managed to speak to the older woman after Marinette’s disappearance and shoved it in her bag. There it had remained, too painful to look at, but to throw it out was unthinkable. She remembered the day Marinette bought the thing, claiming she needed all the luck she could get. It hurt to remember.

Juleka took the charm, and looped it around a long chain she extracted from her pocket. At the end of the chain was a small piece of amethyst, the pointed end facing down. She held the talisman over the map, and set it swinging with a deft roll of her hand. She concentrated hard, her brow furrowed, as she murmured an incantation under her breath.

The pendulum’s swinging localised around a single area, then snapped to a point on the map, sticking like a magnet.

The girls gasped. Alya leaned in, then frowned.

‘This is Marinette’s house. You did it wrong,’ she accused.

Juleka’s eyebrows came down in a sharp V. ‘I did it perfectly.’

‘Obviously, you didn’t.’

‘Unless Marinette’s parents buried her in the basement,’ Alix put in.

‘They don’t have a basement,’ Alya snapped, impatiently.

Rose hooked Juleka by the crook of her elbow and took a judicious step back. ‘Ok, we’re sorry we couldn’t help. See you tomorrow, Alya.’

They all scurried away without a single backwards glance. Alya snorted derisively, then turned back to the map.

It had been a long shot, asking Juleka to find someone after all the professionals had failed. She carefully lifted the fragile paper, and placed it back in the map drawer, gently replacing the layers of tissue paper. The maps weren’t old, but measures were taken to preserve them for as long as possible.

The drawer shut with a loud shriek of metal, proving that the furniture was not as well tended to as the items it housed. Alya leaned against the cold metal with a sigh.

‘What do I do now?’

Like Tom and Sabine, she was out of ideas as well as resources. The map only proved what she already knew, and Juleka was a dead end.

Sinking slowly to the floor, Alya placed her head in her hands and sobbed. She didn’t want to give up, but every day that passed made it less likely that Marinette would ever be found alive. She was losing hope, and even her indomitable will couldn’t keep going.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes, knocking her glasses askew. She straightened them and got to her feet. As she packed her things, Alya promised herself one more day of mourning. After that, she would leave Marinette to rest in peace. Marinette wouldn’t want her torturing herself like this; she’d want her to go on, and continue to live the best life she could.

Exiting the school, Alya’s gaze fell on the bakery. Customers filed in and out in a steady stream, just as they’d done before, almost as if Marinette were still there.

Alya inhaled deeply, and let the bitter feelings go with her exhalation. Nino was right; Marinette wouldn’t want her to think badly of her family, and it wasn’t Bridgette’s fault. It was unfair of Alya to take her grief and resentment out on her.

Groaning aloud, Alya promised herself she would attempt to be nicer to Bridgette. They would never be best friends, but it was a disservice to Marinette's memory to actively loathe her. Her mind made up, Alya took another breath, and began to walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that's not how scrying works, as it generally requires a reflective surface, but I couldn't find a more appropriate word. If you know of one, let me know.  
> Update: Since "divining" and "Dowsing" didn't seem to fit the bill, I just went with "location spells."  
> Ugh. I tried.


	9. Adrien

Adrien pitied Bridgette. She had been attending their school for two weeks, and had yet to make a single friend. She got along with the other students, but there was a barrier preventing her from making closer connections. Whether it was her family situation, or her awkwardness, or a combination of the two, Adrien didn’t know. But, he saw her sit alone in a corner of the courtyard every day, pretending she wasn’t affected by the isolation.

As Alya and Nino squabbled behind him, Adrien approached Bridgette with a friendly smile.

‘Hey,’ he greeted her, one hand raised.

Bridgette looked up at him with wide eyes, and blinked. ‘Hey.’

‘Do you mind if I sit with you?’ he asked, nodding to a place on the ground beside her.

She stammered for a moment, before clamping her mouth shut and nodding.

Smiling benignly, Adrien eased down on her right. ‘How are you finding school?’

Bridgette stared into her lap. ‘It’s different from my old school,’ she replied slowly, as if she were considering her words before she said them aloud.

Adrien nodded. ‘I imagine it was. I wouldn’t know, I was home-schooled before coming here.’

Finally meeting his eyes, she asked, ‘you were?’

‘Yeah, it was pretty boring, though.’

‘Lonely too, I should think.’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, that too. Everyone here is really nice and friendly. It’s so much better than being stuck at home with my brother and the stuffy tutors.’

Bridgette’s gaze fell back to her lap, where she wrung her hands. ‘Yeah.’

The hope that he’d felt when she engaged in the conversation withered. ‘Look, I can see adjusting to the new environment has been hard for you. So, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for not reaching out to you before now. I hope we can still be friends.’

Slowly, she looked back up at him. ‘Really?’

‘Of course. Maybe, I can help you make more friends, too.’

A shy smile chased the shadows from her face. ‘I’d like that. Thank you.’

‘It will be my pleasure.’

The bell rang, calling them to their first lesson of the day. Adrien hauled himself to his feet, then held out a hand to Bridgette. She grasped it firmly, still smiling as he hoisted her up.

He walked beside her to class, greeting his other classmates along the way. They joked and jostled each other, Bridgette dragged into their bantering by accident. She didn’t object, or shy away, instead joining their good-natured ribbing. She was tentative at first, but after she earned a raucous round of laughter at Kim’s expense, she relaxed. Even Alya gave a brief grin in response.

As they took their seats, Adrien gave himself a mental pat on the back. He was sorry he hadn’t tried to befriend Bridgette sooner, but he hoped that with continued exposure to him, she would eventually be seen as one of their own, not just as Marinette's Cousin.

 

* * *

 

Reluctantly, Adrien trudged home after school. He would have liked to go to the arcade with Nino, Max, and Kim, but Nathalie had been insistent. Gabriel wanted him home, and that was final.

Rather than wait for Gorilla, he opted to walk. Nathalie hadn’t been pleased, and he imagined Gabriel would have something to say on the matter, but he thought it was a waste of resources to drive such a short distance.

He pushed through the gate, dragging his feet across the yard and up the front steps. Opening the door, he looked around curiously. The foyer was empty, but voices drifted through the door on the left. Suppressing a sigh, he headed over and knocked before sticking his head inside.

Gathered around the podium where Gabriel worked was Gabriel himself, Nathalie, and Felix. They stood in tense silence, their expressions sour and their postures rigid. Adrien wanted to back out immediately.

Glancing up, Gabriel saw him hovering in the doorway. ‘Come in, Adrien,’ he instructed.

Picking up on the residual tension, Adrien approached the unhappy group. ‘Was there something I can do for you, Father?’

Years of experience dealing with Gabriel’s foul temperament had taught him that being unquestioningly obedient was the best way to calm his father’s moods. Gabriel responded to servitude positively, but would be quick to anger if he were questioned or disobeyed.

Gabriel turned back to his tablet, resting on the podium before him. ‘I have mentioned to Felix these last few weeks that if he could not provide an idea to improve our company’s standing, then he would not be considered fit to inherit the business. He has until the end of the week to come up with something unique, but if he fails, then you are to become the next CEO. Understood?’

Adrien didn’t understand at all. ‘Yes.’

Gabriel nodded. ‘Excellent. The board had responded well to the idea of you becoming the next head. They have followed your career closely and feel it would be beneficial to all for you to take over after I retire. As you have been the face of the company for the last few years, they feel it would be good PR.’

‘He’s a novelty,’ Felix argued. ‘Realistically, he’d be nothing more than a figurehead, designed to bring in new clientele and encourage younger customers.’

Gabriel turned to him with a frosty expression. ‘One would hope so. We are running a business, not a charity. If Adrien can make a profit simply by occupying the head position, then he would be a success. You, however, would bring in no such capital. You have hidden away from the public eye, burying yourself in your studies instead. No one knows you, and those who do, do not find you personable. You would make an adequate CEO, but not a great one.’

‘But Father,’ Adrien interjected, ‘Felix is better qualified than me. He knows how to run the business, while all I can do is stand around and look pretty.’

Adrien turned to Felix, hoping for support or approval. Instead, Felix looked at him with contempt, his lip curled and his skin darkening in anger. Adrien flinched, confused and hurt.

Gabriel held a hand up. ‘That’s enough, I don’t want to hear any more. Felix, you have four days to think of something, or Adrien will be declared my heir and protégé. That is all.’

Felix shoved by Adrien, his gaze fixed on the door, with cheeks a dangerous shade of pink. Staggering, Adrien nearly collided with Nathalie, who had remained silently beside Gabriel throughout the whole exchange.

Adrien opened his mouth, but closed it again. He knew it was futile to try to change Gabriel's mind, and would only be punished for insubordination. Silently, he turned around, and went to his room.

He collapsed face down onto his bed, groaning pitifully into his pillow. He had no idea what game Gabriel was playing, or why he thought Felix needed to prove himself. It was madness, that only alienated both his sons.

Felix was clearly outraged by the decision, and just as obviously, thought Adrien was somehow to blame.

He thumped his pillow with his fists, feeling hopeless.

 

* * *

 

‘Good morning Felix,’ Adrien said cautiously, as he sat down to breakfast the following morning.

Felix glanced up momentarily before rising. ‘I’ll be busy. Don’t bother me.’

No longer shocked by Felix’s abruptness, but hurt by the cold undertones, Adrien fiddled with his fork until he heard Felix’s footsteps on the stairs. With a weary sigh, he resigned himself to another meal alone.

Gabriel had taken to eating in his office since Emilie’s passing, declining to join his sons even on special occasions like birthdays and holidays. Adrien didn’t like it, but he was getting used to it.

He still longed for the old days, when there was warmth in the too-big house. Emilie’s bright smile could light even the darkest shadows, and heat the coldest winters. She had loved readily, and easily, and life was better with her around. However, she’d taken all of that with her when she died.

Adrien shook his head and returned to his meal. It had been a year already since she departed, and so Adrien believed it was time he began to look forward once more.

He’d had many dreams in his young life. When he was six, he wanted to be a martial artist. When he was ten, he’d wanted to represent France on the Olympic basketball team. By the time he was twelve, he just wanted Gabriel to be proud of him, so he’d gone into modelling.

It was during that time when Emilie first became ill. Under the pretence of turning him into an educated and well-rounded young man, Gabriel had insisted Adrien take up fencing, piano, and Chinese. Adrien had leapt in enthusiastically, not recognising the distraction for what it was.

Unfortunately, Emilie had deteriorated quickly, and not even Gabriel could hide her fading condition. Adrien still strove to make his parents proud, though. Emilie praised even the smallest achievements, while Gabriel nodded in quiet approval. It was enough for him. He was beginning to understand the seriousness of Emilie’s condition, so he didn’t begrudge Gabriel his unresponsiveness.

Neither Gabriel nor Felix had gone back to how they used to be, especially Felix, who grew colder and more distant as time went on. Though now, Adrien had more of an understanding of his recent aggression.

He forced himself to finish his breakfast. Dealing with his brother doused his appetite, but his body needed the fuel. Adrien then decided it was preferable to eat alone, if this were to be their norm from now on.

He pushed away from the table, stooping to grab his bag before he stood up. He didn’t bother to call out his goodbyes as he left. No one would answer, anyway, except for Gorilla who would insist on driving him to school. He disliked Gabriel’s belief that they were better, or above such things as walking, and interacting with regular people. His elitism and intolerance were what made people lesser, Adrien thought.

Sticking his tongue out in distaste, he closed the door quietly behind him.

As he neared the school, he saw Bridgette standing alone by the base of the front steps. She was tapping at her phone, pretending not to hear the other students talking about her.

He still felt bad for her. She had come to Paris with the intention of helping her family, and was ostracised for attempting to fill the space her cousin had left. He was certain the rumours beginning to circulate were entirely false.

Madame Bustier had stated on her first day that Bridgette was only there temporarily, while her aunt and uncle learned to manage without their daughter. But the rumour mill churned out misconceptions with startling regularity.

Squaring his shoulders, Adrien strode purposefully onward, determined to keep his promise from the day before.

‘Good morning, Bridgette. How are you?’ he asked, a bit louder than necessary.

Bridgette flinched, then returned his smile, though it was brittle and tremulous. ‘I’m well. How are you?’

Her voice was soft and hesitant, her body language defensive. He immediately felt awful.

‘Can’t complain. Listen,’ he went on, lowering his voice, ‘ignore what they say. Whatever rumours are going around aren’t worth getting upset over. Once the novelty of a new student wears off, they’ll come around.’

His gaze dropped to the ground. He hoped what he said was true.

Bridgette shook her head. ‘No, it’s ok. I get it. It’s weird, me being here. I make everyone uncomfortable, and they don’t like to be reminded of her.’

Adrien didn’t know what to say to that; she wasn’t wrong. But she wasn’t being treated fairly, either. Bridgette was surely hurting more than any of their classmates were, and she had to live in Marinette's old house. She was faced with reminders from the moment she woke up, to when she closed her eyes at night.

He hung his head. ‘She was already gone by the time I came along. I can see her disappearance affected everyone, but you must be grieving more than anyone. Your whole family,’ he trailed off.

Bridgette’s expression eased into a genuine, albeit small, smile. ‘Thank you, Adrien. That means a lot. I know Marinette would’ve liked you.’

He returned the smile, a pleasant flutter stirring in his chest. ‘You think so?’

‘Marinette always did have a soft spot for a kind soul.’

Adrien felt himself blush, and ducked his head, not knowing how to respond to such high praise. He was saved from further awkwardness when the bell rang. He and Bridgette ignored the questioning looks from students in other classes, content to speak of more mundane issues as they went.


	10. Felix

Thinking of a way to prove his worthiness was more challenging than Felix had anticipated. He read business articles, news reports, and periodicals, but the things they suggested relied heavily on the person being in charge already. Felix wasn’t there yet. He had no authority, nor the financial means to pull off stunts like other businessmen had.

To add to his frustrations, the ideas he came up with that were within his means lacked imagination and pizzazz. Whatever he was going to do needed to be astounding, not the equivalent of a pimply youth standing on a street corner wearing a sandwich board.

‘I wouldn’t have this problem if I were an only child,’ he growled into the business journal on his lap. ‘Why did I have to be burdened with an idiot sibling?’

If it weren’t for Adrien, the line of succession would be clear. It was clear, regardless – he was the elder brother. It shouldn’t be an issue, yet here he is.

Felix’s lips pulled back in a snarl. Adrien’s presence complicated everything. If he weren’t around, Gabriel would have no other choice than to name Felix his sole heir and successor.

Clenching his jaw, Felix shook such thoughts from his mind. Resorting to something as crass as eliminating Adrien was not going to prove his worthiness. Gabriel would never know the truth, but it would nag at Felix’s conscience. He couldn’t remain in his position knowing he’d resorted to cheating to get to where he was. Besides, it was beneath him.

He needed to find a way to legitimately prove his suitability, for the sake of the business and his pride. Taking the easy route was not in his nature, or how he wanted to accomplish anything. Furthermore, he’d lost enough family already.

Felix tugged open his desk drawer, to pull out a photo of Emilie. She cradled an infant Felix tenderly, her smile gentle and her eyes bright. She had been a good mother, though perhaps a bit too liberal with praise. Felix believed rewards ought to be earned through hours of hard work, not dished out to every participant like a dessert.

While he’d loved Emilie, he had not respected her. She doted on Adrien, and was prone to frequent bouts of hysteria. Over-emotional, Gabriel had described her. Felix was inclined to agree.

He respected Gabriel, though Felix wasn’t sure if he loved him. Love was a strong word, implying vast applications of the softer emotions. Gabriel was not a soft-emotions type of man. He was strict, aloof, and goal oriented. Felix was sure the only person Gabriel had ever loved was his late wife, and that part of him had withered and died with her.

Felix had never found balance with his parents. He aspired too much to be like one, and scorned the other. Gabriel had always kept his children at a distance, while Emilie had an overabundance of affection for each of them. Though, Felix would never say Gabriel was an ideal role model, either. His parents were deeply flawed people; he held no illusions about that, or glossed over the fact the way Adrien did.

But, Gabriel ran a highly lucrative, multi-million-euro empire. He may not be an ideal person, but he knew how to run a business. He commanded respect, and drew attention in every room he entered. He had presence, something Felix coveted desperately.

It galled him when people treated him like a child. It was insulting, especially since many of those people were going to be his employees one day.

Felix threw the journal to the floor, and got up to pace. As the elder son, he was entitled to a large room, one far more spacious than Adrien’s. However, rather than fill it with common amusements, his room was more like a library than a bedroom. He never felt the need to distract himself with games or friends. He was only focussed on his future career, and would not allow himself to be drawn from his path by banalities.

Weaker minds had expressed concern over his unwillingness to socialise, but Gabriel had waved them away with a statement that Felix was ambitious and knew what his goals were.

The naysayers fell silent after that. Emilie too had once expressed a desire for him to find a playmate, but it was proven at a young age that Felix did not play well with others. He was permanently banned from any Bourgeois residence, and many children had been reduced to tears after being exposed to his acid tongue.

Felix was not sorry. Gabriel had taught him that he was above the common folk, which was a lesson he took seriously.

A knock sounded on his door. ‘Felix, your father would like to speak with you,’ Nathalie told him through the panels.

Ignoring the journal abandoned on the floor, he strode forward to meet Nathalie.

‘He’s in the atelier,’ she informed him, as she fell into step a pace behind him.

Felix acknowledged her with a nod, and kept going. He gave a perfunctory knock, then entered without waiting for an invitation. He didn’t feel Gabriel deserved the courtesy.

‘You wished to speak with me?’ he asked, pausing before the podium, his hands clasped behind his back.

Gabriel flicked through an old sketchbook. ‘Have you made any progress on how you’re going to improve the company?’

‘No,’ he growled.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m surprised. You seemed so sure you could handle running a business.’

Felix scowled. ‘I am more than capable, as you well know. Why are you testing me like this?’

‘Like I told you before, you lack passion. You view the company like you would any other business – distantly, and dispassionately. You fail to recognise it for the legacy I wish it to become. It’s a job to you, nothing more.’

Rage contorted Felix’s face. ‘I’m not like you, Father. I don’t have the artistic skill that’s kept you where you are for so long – ‘

Gabriel held up a hand, ordering him into silence. ‘Artistic skill can be hired and cultivated. Employees are numerous, and will fall over themselves for the opportunity to work for my brand. What you’re missing is attachment.’

‘Attachment?’ Felix spluttered, incredulously.

‘Yes. My brand is like my child, just as you and Adrien are. My company is your eldest sibling, and should mean just as much to you. Do you understand?’

Felix took a step back. ‘You expect me to love a heartless corporation? You do realise it’s not a living thing, right?’

‘That is where you are wrong, and why you will fail. A business requires people to live. They are its heart, body, and soul. You cannot afford to think of it as a mere thing. It grows and breathes just like any other person would. Do you get it now?’

‘I think so,’ Felix lied.

‘Very good. If there’s nothing you’d like to add, you may go.’

Keeping his expression impassive, Felix took his leave.

_The man’s insane_ , he thought.

Gabriel put more thought into the needs of his company than that of his actual children. Still, regardless of Gabriel's state of mind, Felix needed to prove he valued the company as much as his father did, and would be an asset in its future.

His mind churned over the possible advertising campaigns as he walked back to his room, each one dismissed in turn. They were all insipid, uninspired, or juvenile.

He supposed he could pitch an idea, like an event at a public venue to boost sales and notoriety, but it banked heavily on the supposition he could pull the stunt off. In his current state, he was in no position to put something so largescale together. Maybe Gabriel would be willing to open up some resources, such as funding or manpower, for him to put a show together or start a competition.

Felix retreated to his room to build on the possible ideas, and how they could be achieved on a limited budget, but still draw in crowds. He smiled. He hadn’t spent all those years mulling over dusty old books for nothing.


	11. Sabine

Sabine shoved the worktable back into place just as Bridgette entered the bakery.

‘Hello?’ she called, as the bell jingled with the swinging of the door.

‘Back here, Sweetie,’ Sabine replied.

Bridgette stopped in the kitchen doorway, taking in Sabine’s sweaty brow, and the scuff marks on the floor. ‘What happened?’

Sabine shrugged and gestured to a broom standing in a corner. ‘Oh, you know. Cleaning. If you don’t stay on top of it, flour will find its way all through the building.’

Bridgette chuckled as she set her bag on the floor. ‘I see.’

‘How was school, is it getting any easier?’ Sabine went on, eager to change the subject.

‘Today was a little better, actually. A boy began speaking to me yesterday, and with his help, more people spoke to me today.’

Curiosity piqued, Sabine raised her brows. ‘A boy?’

‘Not like that,’ Bridgette denied, though her cheeks turned a light pink.

Sabine hummed, thoughtfully. ‘But one day, perhaps?’

‘If so, it’ll be a very long time from now.’

Resting her elbows on the table, Sabine leaned closer. ‘So, what’s his name? Tell me all about him.’

Bridgette informed her that the boy’s name was Adrien, and that he was a nice person. She described him in sketchy detail, after their mere few hours of acquaintance, but she made it clear there was no romantic interest. Not yet, anyway.

‘What of your other classmates? Have you gotten to know any of them yet?’ Sabine was interested, despite her light teasing.

‘Well,’ she hedged, ‘I’ve not really spoken to many people. The rest of them seem nice enough, though. I think they just need a little more time. Adrien said much the same thing.’

Sabine nodded her understanding, glad that Bridgette was making progress.

‘How were things here, today?’ Bridgette asked.

‘Busy,’ sighed Sabine. ‘Tom is just out making a delivery, but he’ll be back soon.’

‘To Monsieur Fu? Is he still unwell?’

Sabine sighed again. ‘Monsieur Fu is very old, and not as mobile as he once was. I don’t think he’s accepted that fact yet, though.’

‘Sounds like Grandfather Wang,’ Bridgette laughed.

Fu had been a loyal customer ever since the shop had opened. He’d been a surrogate grandfather to Marinette, and loved her dearly. He’d been distraught at the news of her disappearance, the incident aging him terribly. He’d mourned almost as bitterly as Sabine had. He was a charming old gentleman, and Sabine was fond of him. It saddened her to think that he could pass away soon.

It used to be Marinette’s job to make deliveries to their homebound customers. It was how she and Fu had gotten so close. She would sit and take tea with him, listening to his stories as he reminisced about his native land. Some days, Marinette was gone for hours, the time spent with Fu as he rambled.

These days, Sabine and Tom took turns to visit him, to make sure he was eating and healthy.

Sabine’s uncle was Bridgette’s grandfather. Wang was the only member of their family who supported Sabine’s, and her cousin’s, move out of the country. He had even loaned them both money so they could start a new life in this strange country.

As a result, he was disowned by the rest of the family, and branded a traitor. He’d then moved to France to join his tiny family, but since he was already a global success as a chef, he was able to make a name for himself quickly. Now, he owned a small chain of highly successful restaurants, and had become a wealthy man in his own right.

Sabine had never forgotten his generosity, and kept in regular contact with him. Wang, too, had been deeply affected by Marinette’s disappearance, and had funded many of the search parties sent out to find her. Whenever Wang sent a cheque, Sabine choked down her guilt, put the money in the bank, and thanked him profusely.

The rear door opened with a creak, then closed with a firm thud.

‘That must be Tom,’ Sabine declared, glad to be drawn from her own mind.

Just as she predicted, Tom came lumbering in, his bulk filling the doorframe.

‘Good afternoon, ladies. Did you have a nice day?’

Sabine noted with relief that Tom’s hands were empty, but his pocket bulged.

‘Yes, it was fine,’ she replied. ‘I take it Fu is well?’

Tom nodded. ‘He’s pretty spry for a fellow pushing a hundred.’

Bridgette’s eyes widened. ‘He’s really that old? I never would’ve guessed.’

‘He says it’s all the tea and tai chi,’ Tom confided in a conspiratorial, if loud, whisper.

Bridgette had begun to run some of the local deliveries in recent days, to help her become acquainted with the area. Fu was only a few blocks away, and an ideal place for her to go. She’d only made a couple of runs so far, and Fu had mentioned to Sabine that she was shy at first, but warmed up quickly.

His acceptance of Bridgette was such a contrast to the school students, that Sabine feared she may have inadvertently raised Bridgette’s expectations. Fu also had an unfair advantage over the children. Sabine had informed him beforehand of Bridgette’s arrival, and she’s explained at length why she was coming.

To his credit, Fu had taken the development in stride. He’d lost his own family somewhere along the way, and understood her need for familial contact, and assistance in the shop.

‘What about you, Bridgette?’ Tom turned to her. ‘Have a good day?’

As Bridgette told him all about her day, Sabine fetched the neglected broom to continue sweeping, only half listening to the conversation.

Once the flour was cleared, she went back to the front of the store in anticipation of the afternoon rush. People filed in, purchased their goods, and departed in an orderly fashion. No one shoved or jostled their way to the front, as it was well known that anyone who behaved rudely was summarily dismissed to the back of the line.

The hours passed quickly, and operations ran smoothly. Everything was so much easier with Bridgette helping. Sabine idly wondered if she and Tom should look into hiring more kitchen staff. She would bring it up later, and see what he thought. Tom was a proud man, and would take some convincing. Like all the men in her life, he was stubborn and refused to accept his limitations.

Finally, they closed the shop, and retired for the evening. They sat at the kitchen counter in the apartment to share a simple repast, then she and Tom headed to bed, leaving Bridgette to her own devices.

Bridgette had confided she felt weird left alone upstairs, but understood their need to sleep early. A baker’s day began at four in the morning, so she and Tom were in bed by eight-thirty every night.

Sabine told her to take advantage of the quiet, and do her homework or work on a hobby. As long as she kept noise to a minimum, she had free rein.

In the weeks since, Sabine found she had to studiously avoid thinking of Bridgette in Marinette’s room. Instead, she closed her eyes, and pretended the soft treading drifting through the floorboards was Marinette, returned to them at last. It was almost like she’d never left.

Taking a deep breath, Sabine brought her emotions under control, and brought up the possibility of hiring extra help. Tom, predictably, denied the need for additional support. Rather than argue, Sabine simply agreed, and shrugged it off as a suggestion before rolling over and trying to get to sleep. It was a long time coming, as usual.


	12. Bridgette

The days began to pass much more smoothly after Bridgette befriended Adrien. Despite the fact that he’d been attending the school for less than a year, their classmates seemed to trust his judgement, and gradually began to include Bridgette in their conversations.

Hope and relief burst like a dam in her chest, the sudden swell in emotion almost choking her. She had to blink rapidly every time another student so much as turned to her.

The only exceptions were Chloe, Sabrina, and Alya. She was assured that Chloe was mean to everyone, and as Chloe’s lackey, it was Sabrina’s job to also be mean. Many people told her not to take their spite personally, but Chloe had a way of attacking her most sensitive insecurities.

Alya, however, was a different problem entirely. Bridgette could see she was trying, but it was clearly difficult for her. Alya was abrupt to the point of rudeness, but she spoke to Bridgette, and invited her to lunch.

She couldn’t begrudge Alya the lukewarm reception; she knew how the other girl felt. They’d both lost their dearest friend, and it was taking a long time to come to terms with that.

Yet neither of them could hold on to the past for ever. As much as Bridgette loved her cousin, she couldn’t put her life on hold. She had her own dreams for the future, and had ambitions to become a fashion designer. She would always be thankful to Marinette for introducing her to fashion and dressmaking, and she would always have a special place in Bridgette's heart, but it was about time she looked to the future.

She wanted a career, love, and a family. She dreamed of naming her first daughter after her dear cousin, as a way to honour her memory, then smiled at her fantasy. She was getting ahead of herself again. She hoped her future husband would understand.

‘That’s pretty good,’ commented a voice over her shoulder.

Bridgette was sitting in her usual corner of the school courtyard, scribbling in her sketchbook. All she’d drawn was a whimsical little outfit modelled after a ladybeetle, Marinette’s favourite insect. Looking up, Bridgette watched as Alya folded to the ground beside her, still admiring the sketch.

‘Thanks,’ she murmured.

Alya’s eyes darted back and forth. ‘Marinette wanted to be a designer.’

Bridgette nodded. ‘She was the one who introduced me to fashion design. Even now, she inspires me.’

‘She did love those weird little bugs,’ Alya agreed with a rueful chuckle.

Silence fell as they both stared at the sketch.

‘She’d want us to be friends,’ Bridgette eventually ventured.

‘I know, it’s just,’ Alya left the sentence unfinished, her voice fading out.

Bridgette nodded. ‘It’s weird. This whole thing is weird, and wrong, and I wish it had never happened. But it did, and here we are,’

‘Here we are,’ echoed Alya, forlornly.

Biting her lip, Bridgette considered her next words carefully.

‘Would you like to come over?’

Alya’s head snapped up, a look of incredulity on her face. ‘What?’

‘You can come over, if you want. I don’t know, to say goodbye, or something? All of Marinette’s stuff is still there. I’m sure she’d want you to have something to remember her by.’

Alya held up her hands. ‘Wait, wait. Are you inviting me over to give me something of hers?’

Bridgette looked away, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘I just thought you’d like a memento, one you picked yourself. Maybe a gift you gave her, or something she got when you were together, something with a memory attached.’

Alya inhaled deeply. ‘I’m not sure. Can I think about it?’

‘Yes, absolutely,’ Bridgette rushed to reassure her. ‘It doesn’t have to be today. Whenever you’re ready is fine.’

Alya took another deep breath, her eyes shifting from side to side again. ‘Thank you. That’s really generous of you.’

Bridgette shrugged. ‘She was your friend, too.’

‘But you were family.’

‘That’s the funny thing about Marinette. She made everyone feel like family.’

‘Yeah, she was special like that.’

Bridgette pretended not to notice when Alya turned away to wipe her eyes.

 

* * *

 

After school was let out for the day, Alya meekly followed Bridgette back to the bakery. The bell rang merrily above the door as they pushed inside, and Sabine looked up from behind the register.

Her greeting died on her lips as she saw Alya trail in behind her.

An awkward silence ensued, Sabine and Alya both looking away, too overcome with emotion to face each other.

Bridgette was confused. She’d thought they’d be happy to see each other again, or at least be able to empathise over shared sorrow. Eventually, Bridgette concluded that Alya had not come to visit since Marinette vanished, and now neither of them knew how to behave in the other’s presence.

She silently berated herself for spending her lunch break with her new friends, rather than come back to give Sabine advance warning. She cleared her throat.

‘I invited Alya over so she could see Marinette’s room one last time. You know, for closure, and to see if she’d like to keep something of hers as a memento. That’s all right, isn’t it?’

Sabine coughed delicately into her fist and nodded. ‘Yes, that’s fine. Very generous of you, Dear. How have you been, Alya?’

Alya cleared her throat, still looking to Sabine’s right. ‘Ok, I guess.’

‘How are your parents? The twins must be getting big.’

Nodding Alya struggled to maintain eye contact. ‘Yeah, they’re well. Etta and Ella are almost as tall as my shoulders now.’

Bridgette exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. Their conversation was halting and stilted, but there was no animosity. The awkwardness seemed to stem from the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in over six months, rather than from some past conflict.

An irrational, worried, and paranoid part of her mind had feared they’d had a falling out. Over what, she couldn’t guess, but she was relieved to see that wasn't the case.

Their conversation was cut short when a customer entered.

‘We’ll let you get back to work,’ Bridgette said, as she moved across the floor. Alya obediently followed, murmuring a quiet farewell as she passed.

They went upstairs in oppressive silence. Bridgette didn’t want to intrude on Alya’s thoughts, or pull her from her memories of happier times. Eventually, they stood at the base of the steps to Marinette’s room.

‘You ready?’ asked Bridgette, softly.

Alya drew a steadying breath and nodded.

They ascended slowly, and she let Alya push through first. Bridgette heard her inhale unsteadily, before she came to stand just behind her.

‘It looks like she never left,’ Alya whispered.

Bridgette rubbed her arm. ‘I’ve left everything just as it was. All her stuff is exactly how she left it.’

‘Even that?’ Alya pointed to a pile of carefully folded blankets and a pillow on the chaise.

‘Except for that,’ she admitted. ‘That’s where I’ve been sleeping.’

Alya spun around, her eyes wide. ‘You sleep there?’

Swallowing an uncomfortable lump in her throat, she nodded. ‘It didn’t feel right, sleeping in her bed. I feel like I’ve invaded enough of her life already, you know? I’ve climbed the ladder countless times, only to end up just sitting at the foot of the bed. I couldn’t bring myself to go any further.’

‘So, you’ve never gone up to the balcony?’

‘No, I didn’t want to mess up the quilt. Isn’t that silly?’

She bit her lip and turned away, begging herself not to tear up. Her eyes burned and her vision blurred, anyway, her whole face feeling tight and feverish.

Suddenly, Alya was in front of her, pulling her into a tight hug. Bridgette gasped in a much-needed breath, and clung to her, hot tears trailing down her cheeks.

Alya’s own tears dripped onto her shoulder, her body trembling with suppressed emotion.

Unable to contain it any longer, Bridgette gulped another breath to let it out in a heart-wrenching wail. She sobbed into Alya’s shoulder, dimly aware Alya was keening high, pitiful notes as well.

They dropped to their knees, still holding on to each other, crying loud and long.

Bridgette wasn't an attractive crier. Her face turned a mottled red, and she was forced to sniffle constantly. Her sobs were loud and wretched, sounding more like a barking seal than a human crying. Alya was more dignified, her face only going mildly ruddy, and sniffed delicately on every other breath. But she cried loudly too, and with copious tears, her grief unmistakable.

Bridgette pulled back eventually to retrieve the tissue box. She offered it to Alya first, before grabbing a handful for herself. She then sat heavily on her rump to blow her nose, and wipe her face, Alya sitting beside her. Between them, they filled the small waste basket under the desk.

‘Do you feel any better?’ Bridgette finally asked, her throat sore and her voice hoarse.

‘No,’ Alya replied flatly.

Bridgette huffed. ‘Here I thought crying was supposed to be cathartic.’

‘Whoever said that was full of crap.’

‘I just feel hollowed out.’

Alya nodded. ‘I know, right?’

They lapsed into silence once more.

‘Do you feel like you’ve gotten closure, at least?’ asked Bridgette quietly.

Alya shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I mean, what does closure even feel like, and how do you know when you’ve achieved it?’

Bridgette gave an inelegant snort. ‘I don’t even know what it means.’

‘I guess neither of us are there, yet,’ Alya concluded. ‘Hey, if you’ve been no further than the ladder, what’s happened to all of Marinette’s plants?’

Bridgette looked up. ‘What plants?’

Alya surged to her feet to race up the ladder.

‘Hey, wait,’ Bridgette called futilely from the floor.

Alya kept going. Heedless of the blankets, she trampled over the carefully preserved bed, and pushed up the rooftop access hatch to scramble out.

Left with no other recourse, Bridgette followed, wincing at the rumpled bedding as she went.

Alya was standing in the middle of the balcony, turning around in lost circles. Worried something was wrong, Bridgette climbed out gracelessly to stand behind her.

‘What’s wrong, are the plants dead?’

Alya sat down heavily, rubbing her eyes. Shaking her head, she said, ‘no, but they aren’t healthy either. They’re full of weeds, they’re not as lush as they used to be, and there are no flowers.’

Feeling terrible, Bridgette sat to rub Alya’s back as she sobbed into her hands.  She never knew Marinette kept plants, and now felt guilty for leaving these ones to die of neglect. She looked at the small collection of growing things, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

‘I don’t know how to care for plants,’ she wailed.

She slumped down to lean against Alya’s back. They rested against each other as they fought to regain control.

‘I think I know what I’d like for a keepsake,’ Alya mumbled, after a while.

‘The plants?’ guessed Bridgette.

‘Yeah. Marinette was always pottering about up here. I reckon I learned a thing or two just by watching her.’

Bridgette’s eyes drifted to a dry, and overgrown potted plant. ‘I wonder why she never mentioned it to me.’

She felt Alya shrug. ‘She was probably too excited to see you again to think of it.’

‘That sounds about right.’

She and Marinette would often go months without seeing each other, and were always ecstatic to see each other face to face. Bridgette herself would often forget to mention things for the same reason.

But, they kept in contact even when they couldn’t see each other. They talked on social media, texted, or sent emails. If Bridgette forgot to mention something one time, she’d make sure to speak of it the next time they wrote each other.

‘I wonder what other little secrets she was keeping from me?’ she mused, with a fond smile.

Alya’s body shook with a laugh. ‘Actually, she was a secret vigilante heroine. She wore a spandex costume she made by hand, styled like a ladybeetle, and called herself Ladybug. She was the scourge of the Paris underworld.’

‘That’s preposterous,’ Bridgette scoffed. ‘Marinette wouldn’t be caught dead wearing spandex.’

They shared a quiet laugh, before falling into a comfortable silence.

‘We’re always going to miss her, aren’t we?’ Alya asked.

‘Probably, but she was such an important part of our lives. I wouldn’t want to forget about her.’

‘I can’t remember what her voice sounds like,’ Alya confessed. ‘I have to re-watch old recordings of her to remind myself.’

‘At least you have that. I have videos from when we were kids, but nothing recent.’

Alya pulled out her phone, and brought up a small library of videos. She swivelled around so they were side by side, and pressed play on the first recording. Immediately, Marinette’s face filled the screen. She was frowning with mock severity, telling Alya to get the camera out of her face.

Tears stung Bridgette’s eyes. ‘Can you send me these?’

‘Sure.’

They sat there for an hour, watching the last year of Marinette’s life play out in fragments. Bridgette had to carefully control her breathing, determined to keep her composure.

Then, it was time for Alya to go home. They put one of Marinette’s plants into a crate so she could carry it easily, and Tom promised he would deliver the rest the following day.

Alya nodded, thanking them for their thoughtfulness, then gave Tom and Sabine a brief hug before she left.

Bridgette headed back upstairs alone. In the too-quiet apartment, she retrieved the plants she could lift from the balcony, and placed them on the stairs to the bedroom, where Tom could collect them easily. She didn’t know what he was going to do about the bonsai tree. Its pot was too big to fit through the hatch, and was too heavy to lower over the side of the building. She supposed he would think of something.

Then, she tugged the blankets on the bed straight, until no evidence of their desecration remained. She stared at the smooth cotton for a long moment, her mind blank, before throwing herself across the mattress to bury her face in the pillow. All her hard work undone beneath her, she was surprised to note that all she could smell was cotton and dust. No trace of Marinette’s scent remained. Overwrought, she let the tears fall, finally daring to say goodbye for ever.


	13. Alya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this early-release update to Jasmine Harris.   
> Thank you for your enthusiastic comments, they really made my day!  
> Love you, Babe <3

Alya spent the weekend carefully tending to her small collection of plants. True to his word, Tom had delivered them the next day, wheeling the large bonsai around in a wheelbarrow.

Marlena had told Alya he’d put up a strong front, but his eyes swam the entire time he’d been there. Marlena had offered him a cup of tea, and a shoulder to cry on, but he’d declined, explaining he had to return to the bakery.

Alya admired her mother’s capacity for kindness. Unlike herself, she met Tom with compassion, thus assuring him of her ongoing support. Alya was left wondering if she had been adopted.

Nino slipped an arm around her shoulders. It was Monday morning, and they were standing together in the courtyard, waiting for Adrien.

‘I’m proud of you,’ he told her.

Startled, she glanced up at him. ‘Why?’

‘You gave Bridgette a chance, and now you no longer want to snap her in half.’

Alya huffed through her nose. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘Considering how you reacted when she first arrived, I’d say it is a big deal.’

Unamused, she elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Don’t be an arse.’

Not to be deterred, Nino kept going. ‘I’m serious, Babe. You showed some real maturity last week, and look how well it paid off.’

‘I wasn’t nice to her in the hopes she’d give me Marinette’s stuff.’

‘That’s not what I meant. You set your initial dislike aside, and together you were able to do some major healing. You’ve both taken an important step.’

A blush crept up her cheeks. ‘Ok, ok. You can shut up now.’

Nino’s arm tightened. ‘Yes, Dear.’

‘Hey guys,’ came Adrien’s chipper voice.

‘Hey man,’ Nino returned, smiling broadly.

‘Yo, s’up twink?’ added Alya.

Adrien looked pained. ‘Please don’t call me that.’

Alya shrugged. ‘Whatever you say, Vanilla Bean.’

She knew he disliked the backhanded nicknames, but there was something about Adrien that demanded she tease him.

Nino ignored her in favour of moving on. ‘How was your weekend, Dude?’

He shrugged. ‘Father’s absent, Felix is a butt, and work just keeps piling up. So, fairly typical, I’d say.’

Alya winced. Adrien rarely spoke of his family or home life, but these little snippets did not paint a happy picture. She hoped his usual playing down the seriousness of the situation was genuine.

‘What about you two?’ he asked, clearly deflecting.

Nino shrugged, happy to let him steer the conversation into safer waters. ‘Just video games and homework.’

‘What a thrilling life you lead,’ Alya said, flatly.

Adrien then turned to Alya with a polite smile. ‘So, what did you get up to?’ he asked.

They sat on the ground in a loose circle, and she told him of her visit to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Adrien listened closely, nodding and humming at appropriate intervals.

‘I’m glad you and Bridgette worked things out.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ she sighed. ‘I honestly thought it was going to be so much worse when I saw Tom and Sabine again.’

‘Why’s that?’

Nino leaned forward. ‘They didn’t exactly part on the best terms,’ he whispered.

Adrien turned back to Alya with wide eyes.

She scratched her chin, feeling embarrassed. ‘Well, as you’ve probably heard, it took days for me to reach them after Marinette vanished. When I finally got through to them, I lost my temper. I’d been so worried, then they had the gall to tell me Marinette had been missing that whole time. I just lost it. I yelled that they should’ve told me sooner, that I had a right to know, and how dare they keep something like this from me. It wasn’t pretty.’

‘What did they do?’ Adrien asked, leaning in with wide eyes.

She shook her head. ‘They just stood there and took it.’

‘Seriously?’

‘You gotta understand,’ interjected Nino, ‘they were caught up in their own grief, utterly distraught. Plus, they probably felt bad for leaving Alya in the dark like that. Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng are the nicest people you could ever meet.’

‘Did they explain themselves at all?’

Alya let out a breath. ‘They told me they were waiting on the findings of various investigators, magical and mundane. They’d hoped Marinette would be found soon, and all would go back to normal, I guess.’

‘But nothing was ever found,’ Adrien finished.

‘Nope,’ replied Nino, with a sad shake of his head.

‘Now it’s like they’ve given up all hope.’

The three of them startled at the new voice, then looked up guiltily at Bridgette. She sighed and shook her head, taking a seat between Nino and Adrien.

‘What makes you think they’ve given up?’ Adrien enquired.

Bridgette shrugged. ‘Little things. They don’t talk about her much, or mention the investigations. At first, I thought it was too painful, but after Alya came over, they just let her take Marinette’s stuff, and didn’t bring it up again.’

‘But Tom brought the plants over,’ Alya argued. ‘My mum said he was on the verge of tears the whole time.’

Bridgette shook her head. ‘I don’t doubt they’re in mourning. But wouldn’t you think worried, or grieving parents would talk more?’

‘Not necessarily,’ Adrien disagreed. ‘My father loved my mother more than anything, but he almost never speaks of her. Her death took something from him, and now he’s like half the man he used to be. Maybe your aunt and uncle are dealing with their situation similarly?’

Bridgette looked thoughtful. ‘Possibly, but our family had always been pretty open. About most things, anyway.’

Alya raised an eyebrow. ‘Most things?’

She shrugged. ‘Our mothers were cousins, Marinette and I. Technically, that makes us second cousins, but we were so close we didn’t bother with the distinction. But what happened was, our mothers fled their family in China, and came here. Our parents never speak of that time, and I only know because I was eavesdropping on my parents.’

‘Maybe that’s what Tom and Sabine are doing,’ suggested Nino. ‘They talk to each other about it so they won’t upset anyone else.’

‘That sounds like them,’ Alya agreed.

She was surprised. She had no idea the Cheng family had such a scandalous past, and she suspected that Marinette had no clue either.

‘So, why did your mums run away?’ Nino asked, bluntly.

Alya elbowed him in the side. ‘That’s none of your business.’

He glared back at her. ‘That’s rich, coming from the would-be journalist.’

‘Hey, even I know when not to pry into delicate matters.’

‘It’s ok,’ Bridgette interrupted them. ‘As I understand it, my great aunt and uncle are the heads of the family. They’d be Marinette’s grandparents. They own a very profitable business, and are among society’s elite. As such, they had unbelievably high expectations of Sabine and my mum. But rather than be controlled for the rest of their lives, trapped and depressed, they packed up and left. They were both disowned, and disinherited, as was my Grandfather Wang, who supported their flight. They all made lives for themselves here, but Marinette, my brother, and I were never acknowledged by the rest of the family.’

‘Holy shit,’ uttered Nino.

‘Damn,’ breathed Alya.

Adrien just nodded like he understood.

The bell rang, ruining the moment. They flinched at the sudden noise, then chuckled at themselves for their foolishness. They gathered their belongings, and followed their classmates upstairs.

As Alya took her seat, she felt like there ought to be more to the story than that. What Bridgette had divulged didn’t seem like enough to warrant fleeing to the other side of the globe. However, it was possible Bridgette didn’t know any more, and besides, second hand information was notoriously unreliable.

As Madame Bustier took attendance, Alya rested her chin in her hand. Despite the lurid past, it had nothing to do with the current situation. Sabine’s family had cut her off, and they had not spoken with each other for over a decade. They hadn’t wanted anything to do with Marinette either, so were unlikely to have had a hand in her disappearance.

Alya suppressed a frustrated huff. Another dead end.

Bridgette's assumption that Sabine and Tom had given up still nagged at her, though. It was true that all mention of Marinette had stopped on the news reports, and online, but Alya had initially thought that the police were responsible for that. She didn’t blame the media so much, because she knew any story had a short lifespan as far as they were concerned. They didn’t make money rehashing old news, after all.

Chewing her pen, she thought hard on how to best tackle this new titbit of information.

The most obvious course of action would be to ask Tom and Sabine directly, but she would have to be discreet; not her strong suit.

She spent the rest of the lesson wondering how she could angle for another invitation to the bakery from Bridgette.


	14. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve, everyone ^_^

Sweating and grunting, Felix pushed his bed up against his bedroom door, ignoring the impatient knocking from without.

He had run out of time. He was past time, in fact, giving Gabriel his proposal as to why he ought to be the next CEO of _Gabriel’s Fashions_.

‘Felix, come out this instant. Your father wants to speak with you,’ Nathalie called through the door.

Her voice was muffled, but her irritation was clear.

Felix declined to answer. He knew what Gabriel wanted to say, but he didn’t want to hear it. Irrationally, he thought that if Gabriel couldn’t renounce his succession to his face, then he couldn’t do it at all.

Intellectually, he knew Gabriel didn’t require his presence to strip him of his role, that all he needed to do was announce to the board that the line of succession had changed, and it would be done. But if Felix never heard him say it, then he could still hold on to some hope of retaining his position, no matter how flimsy.

Nathalie knocked again. ‘Felix, you’re being childish. Come along, now.’

With a final shove, his bed met the door with a thud. Felix slumped to the floor, folding his arms over the foot of his bed, and resting his head on his feverish skin.

Nathalie rapped louder. ‘Felix, come out here. Now.’

‘Go away, go away, go away,’ he chanted, under his breath.

Eventually, Nathalie stormed off, her heels clacking against the marble floors.

Felix sighed in relief. With any luck, he had bought himself a few more hours grace. He scrambled to his feet, and rushed to the desk. Standing before his computer, he continued to look up advertising ideas, business deals, and corporate takeovers.

He’d considered everything. He stared at his screens, the words blurring into a jumbled mess. Even the less-than-scrupulous ideas had no merit. Nothing he found, or thought of himself, would be enough to prove himself to Gabriel. Felix wasn’t even sure he was capable of loving anything, least of all his father’s company.

‘Felix,’ Gabriel's autocratic voice called through the door. ‘Come tomorrow morning, I will inform the board of my decision. Adrien will inherit the company. I hope you can look past your own ego and selfish desires to help him keep my vision going.’

Retreating footsteps signalled Gabriel’s departure.

Felix ran frantic hands through his hair, clenching and pulling as his life’s work slipped through his fingers.

‘No, no, no, no,’ he muttered.

With wide, unblinking eyes, Felix sank to the floor to rock back and forth, his mind hopelessly blank.

Precious daylight ticked by, the hours passing much too quickly. Nathalie knocked periodically throughout the day, but whatever she said was lost. Felix was stuck in his own mind, constantly replaying Gabriel's fateful words.

As the light streaming in his windows took on the golden glow of late afternoon, a different knock sounded on his door.

‘Felix?’ Adrien called, hesitantly.

How Felix loathed that voice.

‘Look, I know you wanted to take over the company, so I’ll just refuse, ok? I won’t accept it. I don’t want it, I never have, you and I both know that. I’d be rubbish at it. Once I refuse, Father will have no choice but to leave it to you, all right?’

‘Stupid boy,’ Felix snarled under his breath. ‘You know he’d never take no for an answer.’

Silence met his quiet seething. Adrien had probably left after he’d made his assurances. Felix curled his lip in scorn. Adrien really was hopelessly naïve if he thought Gabriel would let him walk away. Gabriel would be disappointed, thinking Adrien was trying to shirk his responsibilities, but he wouldn’t change his mind. Instead, he’d put Adrien to work, moulding him into someone capable of running a business.

Felix ground his teeth, tugging his hair in his ire.

‘You bastard. You’ve taken everything away from me.’

He wasn’t sure if his ramblings were directed at his father, or his brother, but he supposed it didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, they were equally guilty.

‘If only Adrien were out of the picture.’

The idea took root. If Adrien were no longer around, Gabriel would have no alternative but to name Felix his successor. It was boorish, thuggish even, but he was desperate. He had worked too hard for too long to let Adrien steal what was rightfully his.

He licked his lips as he considered the logistics. He would have to be taken away, left somewhere isolated without his phone or ID. Furthermore, Felix couldn’t do it himself.

He lunged to his feet to snatch his phone from the desk. Pulling up his contacts, he pressed the call button.

A wordless grunt answered after two rings.

‘It’s Felix. Come to my room immediately. Be discreet.’

Another grunt, and the line went dead.

Felix hung up as well, and drew in a deep breath. He paced as he waited, his jaw clenching and grinding in turn.

Belatedly, he realised he needed to unbarricade his door, and began tugging on his bedframe.

He had barely dragged it out of the way when a perfunctory knock rapped against his door.

‘Enter,’ he responded, tersely.

Gorilla pushed into the room, the feet of the bed screeching against the floor as it was further shoved by the door. Gorilla raised his eyebrows, before turning to Felix expectantly.

Felix grinned, his smile all teeth and no warmth. ‘I have a little job for you.’


	15. Adrien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joyeux Noël, everyone!

Adrien awoke, cold and uncomfortable, to impenetrable darkness. For a panicked moment, he thought he’d gone blind, and cried out in fear.

But his voice echoed strangely, and the surface he lay on was dusty, frigid, and hard like stone. The air was musty and still, without even a draught for him to follow.

Panic seized him again as he got to his feet to pat himself down. He still wore his day clothes, but his wallet, keys, and phone were missing. Squatting, he groped around blindly, hoping his things had fallen out nearby. Except, nothing but dirt met his desperate fingers. Adrien whimpered, tears springing to his eyes.

‘What happened?’ he moaned. ‘Where am I? How did I get here?’

His tremulous whispering sounded peculiar. Resting on his knees, he felt along the walls and called out a weak, ‘hello?’

He stood up to continue to map his immediate vicinity with his hands. He was surrounded by rough hewn stonework, in a tunnel with a vaulted ceiling. He could stand at his full height, but when he reached up, he could touch the ceiling without having to extend his arms too high.

‘Hello?’ he called again, his voice ending on a sob. ‘Help.’

In the darkness, he lost which way he had been facing when he woke up. If whoever had put him here laid him down with his feet pointing to the exit, he would’ve had some indication of which way to go. Unfortunately, after turning around so many times, he had completely disoriented himself.

Adrien drew his lips in between his teeth, and bit down hard. He tried not to cry; it wouldn’t help, and could dehydrate him faster if he couldn’t find his way out.

A thought occurred to him, frightening and unpleasant. People went missing in the catacombs all the time. Would-be explorers, the morbidly curious, or just unlucky drunks, anyone who entered the labyrinth under the streets of Paris risked remaining stuck down there forever.

‘Oh God,’ he whispered, fervently wishing he was not about to join their unfortunate ranks.

He recalled a vague memory of his basketball coach telling him that if he ever got lost, the best thing to do was to stay where he was and wait for rescue. Assuming he really was in the catacombs, and not victim to some cruel prank, he decided it would behove him to heed that advice. Someone had left him there. Surely, they would return at some point to verify his condition.

Adrien sat down, his back against a wall, as he concentrated on breathing. Giving himself something to focus on would stave off the hysteria boiling in his gut, at least for a little while.

He closed his eyes, pretending the absolute darkness was the result of his eyelids, but there was nothing he could do about the profound silence. The only sounds were the ones he made, from his breathing, to the rustling of fabric when he moved, his throat each time he swallowed, even the sound of his own heartbeat. It was all unbearably loud in the oppressive silence.

He wondered who had left him there, and why. It seemed too cruel a joke for his classmates, and it didn’t fit the typical behavioural pattern of an obsessed fan. He briefly thought of Felix, and his simmering rage of the past few weeks, but quickly dismissed the idea. Felix was ambitious and aloof, but he wasn’t the type of person to resort to something as unsophisticated as this. Left with no other options, Adrien was flummoxed.

Time lost all meaning. He could have been there for minutes, or hours. He may have drifted into a fitful doze a couple of times, but he couldn’t tell.

After what felt like an extremely long time, Adrien’s mouth began to dry out. He chewed his tongue to stimulate his salivary glands, but he was still thirsty.

It wasn’t until he began to feel weak and dizzy when he guessed he’d been there for, at least, a day. He’d learnt from experience that he could go for twelve hours without eating, but as he was also without water, he realised his calculations would be off.

A body could go for a few days without food, but without water, his condition would deteriorate much faster. He wasn’t desperate enough to drink his own urine, nor was he willing to risk going deeper into the tunnel. So, he continued to wait.

A scratching noise startled him from an uneasy sleep. It was the first sound he heard, not made by himself, since waking in this dark hellscape. He was relieved at first, encouraged by the sign of life. He hoped it was someone come to rescue him, at last. But there were no voices chattering, or calling his name, just a light, ominous scritching.

He remembered some horror movies he’d seen, and suddenly recalled where he was. It was rare, but occasionally a magic user lost control of something they’d summoned. Their creatures were supposed to be dismissed properly, sent back to where they came from, but sometimes, the lazy or incompetent magician just hid the beast away. The catacombs were the most popular dumping grounds for magic gone awry, with rumours and urban legends aplenty.

Adrien shook his head. There was no truth in those stories – they’d just been sensationalised in popular culture. Pleased with his ability to think rationally, he relaxed.

When the scuttling began again, Adrien was reminded that a rat, or a pack of them, wouldn’t hesitate to eat him, if they sensed weakness. They wouldn’t even wait until he was dead first.

Spurred on by fear, Adrien staggered to his feet and walked as quickly away as he could. Mercifully, the sound didn’t follow him.

After his surge of energy abandoned him, Adrien leaned heavily against a wall. His shirt snagged on the rough stone, and he was sure he was dirtying it beyond salvation, but he didn’t care. He was scared, hungry, thirsty, and driven onward by his sense of self preservation.

He hoped he had picked the right direction; his chances of survival narrowing from slim to nil if he hadn’t. As he walked, he hoped he hadn’t been gone for too long. He didn’t want anyone to worry, or fear he’d met the same fate as Marinette. He didn’t want his friends to mourn another loss so soon.


	16. Alya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 圣诞节快乐 (Chinese)  
> shèng dàn jié kuài lè  
> Merry Christmas

‘It’s been three days,’ Nino stressed, as he paced at the bottom of the school steps. ‘It’s not like him to leave his phone off, or not come to school.’

Alya reached out to grab his shoulder and stop his frantic pacing. ‘Maybe he’s sick. If he’s resting, he wouldn’t want you bothering him, nagging about when he’s coming back.’

Nino’s expression was flat. ‘If he were sick, his dad or Nathalie would’ve called the school. Madame Bustier would have told us if he were just sick.’

Alya huffed in frustration.

‘I don’t know, then,’ she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. ‘What do you think?’

Finally, Nino stilled, his eyes downcast. ‘You don’t want to know what I think.’

Her irritation ebbed as she looked at him. Pulling him into a hug, she said, ‘I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. I mean, what’re the odds of losing another friend? There’s no way we’re that unlucky.’

Accepting her reasoning, Nino nodded and drew back with a wan smile. ‘You’re right. I’m sure it’s nothing.’

Alya gave him a firm nod, but she was no longer sure if she was reassuring him, or herself. It was all too much like how things had been after they lost Marinette. The days of not knowing, of not hearing anything, or not being able to get through to her family; it was like history was repeating itself, and she wondered if she ought to be preparing for the worst.

Nino fidgeted restlessly throughout morning classes, tapping his pen, and chancing sly glances at his phone. Alya watched his shoulders droop as the hours ticked by, as he became increasingly discouraged.

Over lunch, she tried to distract him.

‘You want to get something to eat?’ she asked, hopefully.

Nino shook his head slowly. ‘Actually, I was thinking of going to Adrien’s place to check up on him.’

‘Do you think they’ll even let you in the door?’

He shrugged. ‘I have to try. You know what this is like.’

Alya turned away as remembered pain lanced her chest. ‘Yeah, I do.’

‘So, you know why I have to do this.’

Releasing a quiet sigh, she nodded. ‘Would you like me to come, too?’

Nino’s taut expression eased into a smile. ‘Yeah, I would.’

‘Then, let’s talk to Madame Bustier about bringing Adrien all the schoolwork he’s missed. Naturally, we’ll need to talk to him, to bring him up to speed so his grades don’t suffer.’

Nino threw his arms around her and squeezed. ‘You think of everything.’

She patted him on the back. ‘You wouldn’t even get through the front gate without me.’

Together, they spoke to Caline. She gave them the stack of work Adrien missed, then advised them to speak with Madame Mendeleiev as well. They both suppressed groans at the delay, but reluctantly obeyed.

A few minutes later, they carefully descended the front steps, each burdened with a stack of papers.

‘I’m going to trip,’ complained Nino, as he took the stairs one at a time.

‘As long as you keep walking like an arthritic tortoise, you’ll be fine,’ Alya assured him.

They traversed the stairs without mishap, then set off toward Agreste Manor.

Alya whistled appreciatively at the size of the building. It was grand, but the façade was austere, even to her untrained eye.

Gingerly, Nino rang the doorbell.

Alya leapt back a foot when an articulated camera popped out of the wall to examine them.

‘Yes?’ asked a dispassionate voice.

Nino raised a hand in greeting, his papers balancing precariously on his free arm. ‘Hey, I’m Nino, and this is Alya. We’re here to see Adrien. We brought the schoolwork he missed.’

He held the papers up as proof.

‘Adrien isn’t here.’ With no further explanation, the robotic eye retreated into the wall.

Stunned, Nino turned back to Alya. She gaped at him, shrugging helplessly.

He pressed the buzzer again, cringing when the camera burst forth once more.

‘Can you tell me where he is?’ Nino gave the camera his most doleful eyes.

‘No. goodbye,’ the voice replied, as the camera hid again.

Alya rubbed Nino’s back as his shoulders slumped, her share of the paperwork wedged between her arm and breast.

‘Come on, Babe. There’s nothing more we can do here.’

He turned to her, equal parts lost, betrayed, and confused.

‘For now,’ she finished.

His expression clearing, Nino nodded and followed her away. She bought him lunch at a modest café close to the school, then sat with him quietly while he processed this newest development.

‘What can we do, though?’ he asked while they walked back to school, picking up the conversation as if they’d never stopped.

Alya hummed, thoughtfully. ‘I was thinking of recruiting Max, and seeing if he could hack Adrien’s phone remotely.’

Nino’s brows shot up. ‘Is that even possible?’

‘Sure,’ she replied, with false bravado. ‘It’s just not legal.’

‘So, how do you expect Max to do it?’

Waving a flippant hand, she replied, ‘if he gets stuck, we’ll talk Sabrina into lifting some of her dad’s stuff.’

‘We’re talking multiple felonies here, Alya,’ Nino told her, seriously.

She turned to look at him, matching his expression. ‘But it’ll be worth it.’

‘Yeah,’ he agreed, with a rueful nod. ‘It will be.’

She rubbed his arm. ‘I wish it hadn’t come to this, you know. I don’t want to break laws, but I really don’t want to lose another friend.’

Nino’s answering smile was brittle. ‘I know. Thanks, Alya.’

‘Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. I’d rather not go to prison.’

They approached Max in the locker room, after the final bell had sounded. They engaged him in idle conversation until the crowd departed, then their affable smiles dropped.

‘Look,’ hissed Alya, as she draped an arm over Max’s shoulders to pull him close. ‘We went to Adrien’s house today, but we were stonewalled at the gates. Nino’s distraught, and none of us want a repeat of what happened with Marinette.’

Max’s face turned ashen as he nodded. ‘What do you need?’

‘We want you to hack into Adrien’s phone remotely,’ she answered, bluntly.

His eyes bulged as Nino shook his head at her tactlessness.

‘We don’t have time to pussyfoot around,’ she snapped.

‘I realise that,’ Max placated her. ‘But there’s some equipment I’ll need.’

Nino clapped him on the back. ‘Good man. We’ll talk to Sabrina about pilfering some of her dad’s stuff. Just make a list of what you’ll need, and we’ll take care of the rest.’

Max looked doubtful. ‘How do you plan on getting Sabrina to cooperate?’

‘Easy,’ Alya stated, airily. ‘We’ll just mention to Chloe that we need some things to get Adrien back. She’ll bully Sabrina into helping.’

‘That’s a dangerous line you’re walking,’ Max warned.

‘It’ll be worth it, if it means getting Adrien back safe,’ said Nino.


	17. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all having a wonderful Christmas!

He’d done it. He had successfully delayed Gabriel's renaming his protégé, and now he was the only option left. It didn’t matter that Gabriel was sending out detectives, scryers, and psychics in secret to search for Adrien. Felix had all but guaranteed his place as the next head of the company.

Felix sat before his desk, his fingers steepled under his chin, as he stared at his monitors. He had tapped into the security feed inside the conference room where the board was currently holding a meeting. He watched the proceedings with a devious, greedy smile.

Gabriel was discussing their profits and losses, as well as the overall balance. It was a subject which bored most people, but Felix listened avidly, preparing for the day when he would be standing in his father’s place.

However, as the items on the agenda dragged on, Felix grew impatient.

‘Come on, old man,’ he grumbled. ‘Get to it, already.’

After three hours, Gabriel finally set his folder down.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began, his voice weak and tinny through the speakers, ‘as you know, I intended to make my son, Adrien, the next CEO. The critics can whine about nepotism all they want, I don’t care. I feel like either of my sons are fully capable of keeping  _Gabriel’s_  the successful company it is. However, it grieves me to inform you that Adrien has gone missing.’

There were audible gasps from the committee members. Gabriel raised a hand, and they fell silent.

‘I assure you, I’m doing everything I can to bring my son home. For the company, this means that Felix will become my heir, as was originally planned. He is intelligent, but he will require guidance. Until his time comes, I will train him myself. He will shadow me everywhere I go, and learn what it takes to be the CEO of a multi-million-euro company. For now, I ask you all to keep what you have heard private. I have no desire to have my work overshadowed or questioned by my son’s disappearance. Thank you for your understanding.’

The meeting adjourned, then the board members shuffled from their seats and left.

Felix grinned savagely as Gabriel slumped into a chair, to put his head in his hands.

Jubilant, Felix pushed away from his desk. He sauntered toward the shelves in the dimly lit, leftmost corner of his room, and squatted to peer into the lower shelves. He pulled out a handful of books, then dug his fingers into the wooden panelling in the back. It lifted free with a small squeak, revealing a dusty, hollow space in the wall.

Without hesitation, Felix thrust his hand inside, and withdrew a phone. He kept it turned off, but he knew what was on it – pictures of Adrien laying unconscious on the ground in some deep, dark tunnel. Gorilla had done his job well.

Felix had instructed him to sneak up on Adrien from behind, and knock him out. Whether it be by injection, chloroform, or a knock on the head was irrelevant, as long as he was out cold. Still under Felix’s orders, Gorilla then smuggled Adrien out of the house, easily concealing the body in his large jacket. Once he was some distance from the Agreste mansion, Gorilla dumped Adrien somewhere he would not be able to get out of quickly, or find his way home from too soon. Then, all Gorilla had to do was take Adrien’s keys, wallet, and phone, and snap a picture of him, with Adrien’s own phone, of him where he lay, as proof the deed was done.

It was apparent that Gorilla disapproved of Felix’s plan. His face and body language as he handed over Adrien’s things screamed outrage, yet Felix was unconcerned. Gorilla would never confess to his part in the crime, for fear of what Gabriel would do to him if he found out.

Felix felt no remorse. Adrien had been a bother, and an obstacle in his path since they were children. Felix was glad to be rid of him. Nor did he care for Gabriel's suffering. Felix justified his actions by believing they had brought their unhappiness upon themselves. If Gabriel had just given him the company, and if Adrien hadn’t ingratiated himself to their father over the years, they would not have found themselves in their current predicaments.

Felix tossed Adrien’s phone from hand to hand, before replacing it in the secret compartment. He put the wooden panel and the books back carefully, then wiped away the fine layer of dust on the surrounding shelves. Satisfied he’d covered his tracks, Felix sat before his monitors once more.

The conference room was empty. Switching out of the security feed, he returned to what he’d been reading online before Gabriel’s meeting began.

 

* * *

 

Buoyed by his victory, Felix decided to take his evening meal in the dining room. To his surprise, Gabriel joined him, walking in a few minutes later with a weary expression.

‘Good evening, Father,’ Felix greeted him, his face impassive.

Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement. ‘Good evening, Son.’

They ate in silence, but Gabriel’s red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes didn’t go unnoticed. Felix feigned a melancholy air, poorly disguised as his usual blunt demeanour. Felix fancied himself a consummate actor, now that he knew how to project grief after Emilie’s death.

‘I addressed my board today,’ Gabriel said, breaking the silence. ‘You will, undoubtedly, be pleased to know that you are now my uncontested heir. Congratulations.’

Felix set his fork down. ‘It does not please me to have won the position this way,’ he lied. ‘However, I will do the best I can, under the circumstances.’

Gabriel hummed noncommittally.

‘I’m sure Adrien will turn up, in time,’ Felix consoled him. ‘He probably just got lost, or ran off to a friend’s house.’

‘If either of those scenarios were true, the detectives, would have found him by now,’ Gabriel pointed out.

‘I’m just saying that the simplest solution is often the right one.’

Gabriel remained quiet after that, so Felix took his leave and headed to bed with an untroubled mind.


	18. Bridgette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still Christmas!  
> Have another chapter ^_^

Sitting across from the detective brought back unpleasant memories Bridgette would rather forget. Her parents had told her of the lengths Tom and Sabine had gone to, to bring Marinette home, and investigators of every ilk had been a large part of that. However, this was a different set of detectives, looking for a boy who could have been Marinette’s opposite in appearance.

She squirmed in her seat, disliking that she was being questioned about a boy she had only recently befriended. They made her feel like a criminal, the way they looked at, and spoke down to her.

Everyone in their school was being questioned, even the teachers and other staff members. Gabriel Agreste had the idea that Adrien was hiding with one of the students, and demanded the entire student body be all but interrogated.

It was slow. No student could be questioned without a parent or guardian present, some students were recalcitrant, while others spoke too much. Now that it was her turn, Bridgette tried to be as honest and succinct as possible, in the hopes that she would be let out faster. But the investigators kept asking her to elaborate on her answers, even when there wasn’t much more to tell.

‘I think that’s enough,’ Sabine cut in sharply, with a scathing glare at the detective. ‘We’ve recently lost a member of our own family. We don’t need the stress of this on top of our grief.’

‘Madame Cheng,’ the man said with condescending patience, ‘this is an investigation for a missing child.’

‘You think I don’t know that? My daughter is still missing.’

‘Then you should be able to sympathise with Monsieur Agreste’s plight.’

‘To a point. I would never consider traumatising children, though.’

‘Which is probably why your daughter was never found,’ he muttered under his breath.

Bridgette snapped her jaw shut, eyes wide, as she slowly turned to look at Sabine. Her usually gentle face had turned a sickly white, before it darkened to a dangerous pink.

‘How dare you?’ she hissed.

Sensing impending doom, Bridgette leapt from her chair. ‘Ok, Aunt Sabine. Time to go.’

The investigator looked peeved. ‘We are not done here.’

‘I say we are,’ Sabine retorted, venomously. ‘Come along, Bridgette.’

Hooking Bridgette around the crook of her elbow, Sabine dragged her from the repurposed classroom with a deep scowl. She shoved by those still waiting to be questioned, ignoring their indignant protests and overt stares. Bridgette apologised to those they bumped into, waving contritely over her shoulder as Sabine hauled her away.

Tom looked up from the register when they re-entered the bakery, his mouth opening to ask how it went. After one glance at Sabine’s face, he judiciously closed it again, and retreated to the kitchen. Bridgette joined him, spending the rest of her afternoon there, hoping that by keeping busy, she could avoid Sabine’s wrath. From what she heard through the doorway, not even the customers dared linger, put off by her brusque manner.

By the time they closed for the day, and retired to the apartment, Sabine had calmed down enough to talk about what the investigator had said.

Tom was incensed.

‘The nerve,’ he exclaimed. ‘To say such a thing to a grieving mother, and expecting her to have sympathy for another, but to deny her the same courtesy. The sheer hypocrisy.’

Bridgette remained quiet as their mutual outrage fuelled each other on. She didn’t like what the detective said either, but there had to be a more mature way to handle the situation.

Eventually, their ire cooled. After dinner, they sat on the couch, staring listlessly at the television. Bridgette ignored the subtle glances Sabine kept giving her.

Finally, Sabine cleared her throat. ‘Say, Bridgette, are you still sleeping on the chaise? I can’t imagine it’s too comfortable.’

Bridgette’s head snapped up, as her mouth fell open. ‘How did you know?’

Sabine’s smile was gentle. ‘Oh, I’ve always known. You regularly forget to put the spare blankets and pillows away, and the bed is always perfect. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.’

Bridgette rubbed her arm, her gaze dropping to the floor. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect. It’s just weird staying in her room without her there.’

Sabine exchanged a knowing look with Tom. ‘Well, what if we made it feel more like your room? Would that make you feel more comfortable?’

‘My room?’ Bridgette stammered, her mouth dry.

Tom grasped Sabine’s hand, and looked Bridgette in the eyes. ‘We’ve discussed it, and we think it’ll be ok for you to redecorate, to make it feel more like home. You are attending school here too, after all, so you need to be properly rested.’

Bridgette bit her lip, her eyes falling to her knees. She was touched by the gesture, and it was true that the chaise did not make for adequate long-term sleeping arrangements. Her back and shoulders ached, her neck was stiff, and her hips were sore. Her sleep was light and unrestful, as she was constantly afraid of falling off while she slept.

Despite her discomfort, she had not thought seriously about sleeping in Marinette’s bed. Even now, she felt more like a guest than a resident, but she couldn’t deny her growing need for a decent night’s sleep.

‘Redecorate, how?’ she asked, timidly.

Tom and Sabine smiled.

‘We can start small,’ Sabine assured her. ‘Like some new bedclothes, and pillowslips. We can pull down the old posters and put them away, maybe even repaint, if we feel up to it.’

Bridgette met their steady looks. ‘Repainting is a huge job, and a big commitment. Are you sure you’re up to something like that?’

‘I think it’s time,’ Tom replied. ‘Marinette would want us to move on, and you to be comfortable.’

Nodding, Bridgette agreed. ‘Yeah, she would.’

‘It’s settled, then,’ Sabine decided. ‘We’ll get started in the morning.’

 

* * *

 

Saturday dawned bright and warm, with a slight breeze – an ideal day for redecorating.

After breakfast, Bridgette helped Sabine pack Marinette’s unused things carefully into boxes. Some were to be put into storage, others were going to be sold, and the rest would be thrown away. That was the idea, anyway.

‘Is it ok to throw these things away?’ asked Bridgette, as she examined a photo of Marinette’s friends.

Sabine nodded. ‘The ones without Marinette in them can go, but the ones with her can be put in the storage box.’

A small pile of pictures and posters were gathered into the throw away box, along with a few decorative hangings which had no memories attached to them. Sabine assured Bridgette that they were things that Marinette would have thrown out herself, in time. Bridgette pretended she didn’t see Sabine pocket a few photos featuring Marinette. They put the clothes and shoes into storage, as well as some pieces of costume jewellery, folded carefully into her old linens.  

However, nothing was taken away to be sold. No one had the heart to treat Marinette’s things so callously, and they didn’t want to risk seeing her belongings in the possession of another.

The remaining items were things Bridgette decided to keep, as she would find a use for the sewing machine, computer, and the dress form.

She and Sabine opened the windows, then dragged the furniture away from the walls, and covered them and the floors in plastic drop sheets. Tom hauled up large buckets of hot, soapy water, then they all got to work washing the walls.

Sabine held a ladder steady while Tom cleaned up high, and Bridgette took it upon herself to scrub the skirting boards. They sang while they cleaned, lifting their moods considerably, and made the hours pass quickly. Bridgette hadn’t felt so at ease in months.

It was a big job, and took them most of the day. They were tired and sore over dinner, but their evening meal that night was more joyous than any Bridgette had experienced there in a long time. They spoke happily of possible redecorating ideas, even though they were largely impractical. Bridgette giggled at Tom’s suggestion of a water slide from the bed.

She spent that night on Marinette’s mattress, dragged down to the living room where she wouldn’t be subjected to the smell of cleaning fluids. She slept peacefully, comfortable for the first time since she arrived in Paris. She even dreamt of Marinette, smiling and happy, just as she’s been the last time they saw each other. Bridgette took it as a good omen.

 

* * *

 

Right after breakfast the following morning, Sabine took Bridgette shopping to choose new sheets and blankets. She decided upon butter yellow sheets and pillowslips, and a mint green quilt cover with a soft yellow floral print.

They then rushed to the hardware store, hoping to find a paint they liked before closing time. Many shops closed for the whole day on Sundays, but some places remained open to cater to the tourists and immigrants. They reached the hardware store with plenty of time, and browsed the paint section leisurely. Bridgette eventually chose a warm peach colour, a shade of pink she liked, which still honoured, and remained faithful to Marinette’s memory, but just different enough to change the atmosphere in the room. She decided the panels on the lower portion of the walls ought to be fuchsia, to provide contrast without clashing. She thought it would look lovely, and Sabine agreed. They even found a new rug in a soft rose.

They carried their findings home to see that Tom had just finished applying the primer, and was washing out the paint roller.

‘My goodness, you were industrious,’ Sabine observed, approvingly.

Tom stretched his arms above his head with a groan. ‘I wanted to get it done quickly. Painting is the absolute worst.’

Immediately feeling ashamed, Bridgette hung her head. ‘I’m sorry.’

With an undignified squeak, Tom rushed to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘No, it’s ok. We’re the ones who made the suggestion, remember? You have nothing to apologise for.’

Looking up, she bit her lip. ‘Really, you’re sure?’

‘Positive,’ Tom and Sabine replied at the same time.

Encouraged, Bridgette smiled, and showed Tom her new treasures. He praised her lavishly, before they hurried upstairs to see if the base coat had dried. With the windows open, the warm day, and the slight breeze, the primer dried quickly. Tom then armed himself with the roller, Sabine with the edging tape, and Bridgette with a fine brush. He poured paint into trays as Sabine placed the tape around the edges of the windows and the lower panels.

Bridgette was thankful for the drop sheets. She had never painted a room before, so she dripped paint all over. Sabine picked up a wide brush, and painted the middle sections while Tom spread the roller over the high up places. Bridgette smiled at the flawless team they made.

Between them, they applied the first coat in a couple of hours. They took a break while it dried, and had lunch. Sabine switched her new sheets from the washer to the drier, then they went to apply the second coat. Once it was finished, they stood in the middle of the room to admire their handiwork.

Sabine placed an arm over Bridgette’s shoulders. ‘It’s beautiful, Dear.’

‘Marinette would approve,’ Tom agreed.

They gathered the drop sheets, collected the brushes, rollers, and trays, and cleaned up the minor messes. Fortunately, most of the spilled paint was on them, rather than the floor.

Sabine would make the bed while Bridgette was at school the following day, and they would put the room back together after she got home. In the meantime, the windows would be left open and Bridgette would spend another night downstairs. She wasn’t bothered by the temporary arrangement, but she hoped that Tom’s and Sabine’s willingness to redecorate was a sign they’d accepted their loss and were moving on. It was hard to interpret any other way.

Bridgette knew they would all miss Marinette for the rest of their lives. She had been a beacon of optimism, and a stalwart companion. She’d brightened the lives of all who knew her, and would be sorely missed. But, the living had to keep going, which meant looking forward.

Although, it seemed to Bridgette that her aunt and uncle's mourning period had not been long enough. Even when they spoke of her, their emotions didn’t seem strong enough for the loss of a daughter they had fought so hard to conceive.

Bridgette shook her head at her own foolishness. Marinette had been gone for months before she arrived, so it stood to reason that Sabine and Tom had gone through their grieving prior to her arrival. Furthermore, she was still a teenager who knew nothing of losing a child. Her aunt and uncle were mature people who had learned to cope, at least outwardly.

Her friends were probably right when they suggested the Dupain-Chengs mourned privately. Bridgette decided she could be mature too, just like her aunt and uncle.


	19. Adrien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas has drawn to a close. I hope you all liked the chapter dump today!  
> Merry Christmas, everyone, and a happy new year!

Adrien had long-since lost all sense of time, but he knew he had been underground for far too long. He was hungry, thirsty, his head ached, and he felt nauseous. His condition led him to believe it had been a couple of days, at least.

He kept walking, hoping to stumble upon an exit, but getting up after each impromptu nap was becoming increasingly difficult. He leaned against a wall when his head spun, another occurrence which was happening more often. He knew that if he didn’t get food or water soon, he was going to die.

Adrien still hadn’t figured out who had left him there, or why. If it were a prank gone wrong, it was excessively cruel. If it were something more malicious, he didn’t want to think about it. He had no word for someone who would deliberately abandon a person in the old tunnels.

He walked on, though his hopes diminished with every dark turn. He hadn’t called out after his mouth dried up, as he didn’t want to lose whatever precious moisture remained. Since he hadn’t heard even heard a murmur from the world above, he doubted anyone would have heard him, anyway.

Allowing his mind to wander into hazy blankness, at first, Adrien didn’t notice the light growing incrementally around him. What pulled him from his trance was the sound of someone humming; a girl’s voice.

Too relieved to wonder what a girl was doing in such a place, Adrien shuffled into a trot, his surroundings becoming visible as he followed the light and sound. He tried to call out, but his voice was no more than a scratchy wheeze.

Clearing his throat, he tried again. ‘Hello?’

The humming stopped. Undeterred, Adrien kept going.

‘Hello? Please, help me. I got lost, and have been down here for ages. Can you help me?’

His unsteady gait brought him to a round chamber, lit with a single storm lantern placed on a wooden crate. There was a camping mat on the other side of the room, and makeshift shelves of cinderblocks and old planks, housing an assortment of containers and bottles.

Scribbles decorated the hewn walls, done in charcoal and chalk, which looked a lot like Gabriel’s designs, and a dusty, circular rug lay on the middle of the floor.

However, there was no trace of the girl; only a dark opening across from where he stood.

‘Hello?’ he tried again, hoping he hadn’t scared her away.

A dry scraping noise drew his attention to the other tunnel, a barely visible shadow moving about within the darkness.

‘Are you there?’ he asked, craning his neck around to try to peer into the void.

‘Who are you?’ demanded a tremulous voice.

‘My name is Adrien. I’m sorry for bothering you, but I think I’ve been down here for days. Do you have any water?’

Still, the girl refused to leave the shadows. ‘There’s some on my shelf. It’s on the top, to the right. Help yourself.’

Adrien took a cautious step inside. He hadn’t forgotten about the rumours of monsters lurking in the catacombs, but his desperation drove him forward. He found a cheap, plastic bottle of water, and drained it greedily. He could have had more, but he didn’t want to appear rude or selfish, nor did he know how much she had to spare.

‘Thank you, you’re a lifesaver,’ he gasped, putting the empty bottle back. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

There was a restless shuffling from the shadows. ‘You’re welcome.’

When Adrien thought of demons and monsters, he didn’t think “generous” or “polite” would be words he used to describe them. He took a step forward, squinting curiously.

‘Won’t you come out?’

There was a moment of frantic scrabbling before she replied. ‘No.’

‘May I ask why?’

She remained quiet for a long moment before replying.

‘Because I’m ugly,’ she whispered.

Adrien’s heart ached for her. ‘Ugly?’ he repeated.

‘Very.’

He wanted to tell her that her generosity made her the most beautiful person in existence, but he didn’t think she would appreciate it. She would think such words were merely empty flattery, if she truly believed herself so unsightly.

‘Will you tell me your name then?’ he tried, hopefully.

She took so long to answer, he thought she had refused. But then, her voice came, soft and sweet.

‘Marinette.’

Adrien’s breath caught, and he swore his heart stopped beating. ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng?’

The shadows shifted. ‘You know me?’

‘I know of you.’

‘How?’

Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘I go to your school now. I'm in your old class. I sit next to Nino.’

Marinette sobbed, the sound audible through her shuffling as she changed position. ‘Tell me, how are they?’

‘They’re well. They miss you.’

‘They think I’m dead.’

‘Yeah.’

Marinette sniffled, sounding like she was trying to suppress her crying.

‘I can tell you more,’ Adrien offered, ‘if you come out from there.’

It wasn’t his intention to bribe her, so he hoped she didn’t misinterpret what he was saying. He was simply curious about why she was here, and what she meant by “ugly.” By all accounts, Marinette had been a normal, cute girl – not the type of person who would fake her own death to hide from society.

‘I’ll scare you away,’ she breathed.

Adrien shook his head emphatically, his heart wrenching. It was clear Marinette was lonely, and if she had been down here since her supposed disappearance, then she had been by herself in that place for several months.

‘Esmeralda wasn’t scared by Quasimodo,’ he told her, smiling encouragingly.

‘Quasimodo could still pass for human.’

Adrien felt his breath catch, but ploughed on. ‘But you mean me no harm. If you wanted to eat me, you would have done it by now, so I’m not scared. I swear.’

Marinette hesitated, shuffling nervously. ‘Promise you won’t scream.’

Adrien placed his right hand over his heart. ‘I promise I won’t scream.’

Slowly, she stepped into the light.

Adrien gasped, taking an involuntary step back.

From her chin to her nostrils, Marinette’s face was human, but from her cheekbones up, her skin blended into a deep red. The bridge of her nose was flattened, and her eyes were large, dark blue, and multifaceted. She had no eyelids, lashes, brows, or hair, just a pair of twitching antennae atop a glossy scalp.

What Adrien had originally taken for a hunched back was actually a huge beetle shell, perfectly round, and bright red with black dots. Her arms emerged from near the front of the shell, too long for her body, black, and tipped with three-fingered hands. Her underbelly was also black, and heavily armoured by her exoskeleton. She had four legs, all of which were too long, and boasted too many joints, all pointing away from her body.

Then, Marinette stretched, extending her torso out from under her shell, like a turtle. Fully upright, she stood at eight feet tall, easily towering over Adrien. Like the rest of her body, her torso was covered by black armour, eliminating the need for clothes. He watched the plates of armour shift as she moved, the source of the dry scraping sound.

Quickly, Marinette lowered her torso closer to his height, but she was still intimidatingly large.

Adrien took another step back, wide eyed as he took her in. Then, suddenly, he burst into raucous laughter, cackling so hard he doubled over, bracing himself on his knees.

‘Hey,’ Marinette protested. ‘I know I said not to scream, but don’t you think this is a bit much?’

Adrien took a deep breath, and straightened up. ‘You’re a furry,’ he wheezed, pointing at her.

She gasped. ‘I am not,’ she denied, sounding offended.

‘You’re a bug furry,’ he snickered.

‘I was cursed,’ she retorted, beginning to sound cross.

Adrien sobered immediately. ‘What, by whom?’

Marinette crossed her arms and looked away.

Contrite, Adrien ducked his head. ‘It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me.’

Marinette sighed and shook her head. ‘No, it’s ok. I think I’d like to talk to someone. It’s been so long.’

Adrien sat down on the cold stone, giving her his undivided attention, and waited for her to begin.

‘It all started years ago, before I was even born.’

She lay as best she could on the insufficient mat, but it didn’t look comfortable.

‘Back when my mother still lived in China, her parents arranged her marriage to the son of another business owner. Maman’s parents are extremely wealthy business owners, too, and thought the union of their families would be beneficial to both sides.

‘However, the young man was conceited, ambitious, and cruel. Maman didn’t love him, and could not allow herself to be wed to such a person. Knowing her own parents wouldn’t help her, she went to her uncle for help. He got her a passport, and a ticket out of the country, then helped her flee the family estate.

‘She came here, and not long after, her cousin came as well, followed by her kind Uncle Wang. After Maman escaped, my grandparents turned to the only other eligible girl in the family – Maman’s cousin. Except, Maman had already told her about the awful man, so she was prepared to run, with Uncle Wang’s assistance, before they could even put her forward.

‘When it became clear what had happened, all three of them were disowned, cast out as traitors and a humiliation to the family reputation. From then on, we were all treated like we don’t exist.

‘Unfortunately, the man Maman was to marry never forgot the insult. He tracked us down, and attacked us in our own home. During the time Maman had been away, Zhang Yu had learnt magic, specifically curses. He was so enraged when he saw me, that he cursed me as revenge against Maman.’

‘He cursed you out of jealousy and wounded pride?’ Adrien guessed, astonished.

Marinette nodded. ‘He said, “you think yourself lucky for the life you have here? Then have all the luck you want.” Then he turned to me, screaming some magic phrase. There was a bright light, then unbelievable pain. It felt like I was being ripped to pieces. When it stopped, I couldn’t stand, couldn’t blink, I couldn’t even cry, thanks to this hideous new form.

‘My parents were hysterical, but Zhang Yu had already left. Not that he would have undone the curse, anyway.’

‘So, your parents told everyone you’d gone missing, and just hid you down here?’ Adrien was scandalised.

Marinette held her hands up in an approximation of a shrug. ‘What else could they do? Curses are all but impossible to break without the original caster. They said they would ask around, but I guess they haven’t found a curse breaker yet.’

‘But why exile you to a life down here?’

‘Look at me,’ she said, in a defeated tone. ‘I can’t live a normal life looking like this. I wouldn’t even be able to move around my own house.’

Adrien turned away, rubbing his neck. ‘I guess.’

Marinette sighed. ‘Tell me about everyone. How’re Alya and Nino?’

‘They’re ok. Alya took your disappearance hard, but Nino’s helping her get through it. They’re dating now.’

A small smile lit up the human portion of Marinette's face. ‘Good, it’s about time. They were heading that way the last time I saw them.’

Marinette handed him another bottle of water and half a loaf of bread. The water had been sitting for too long, and the bread was a little stale, but he didn’t care. He paced himself, telling her about their other classmates between bites. If he ate too much too quickly, he would make himself sick.

‘Your cousin, Bridgette, has come to stay with your parents,’ he informed her, unsure of how the news would be received.

Marinette stilled. ‘Really?’ she stammered.

‘Yeah, to help out and stuff, until they can manage on their own.’

‘Good. That’s good,’ she murmured. ‘They could probably use the extra hands.’

Adrien hesitated before asking his next question. ‘Are you ok? Aren’t you lonely down here, by yourself?’

Marinette's head whipped up. ‘I’m fine. I mean, I get lonesome sometimes, but it’s better than being stared, or screamed at.’

‘Would you like me to tell everyone you're alive?’

‘No,’ she yelped, holding her hands out. ‘Please, don’t. I don’t want them to see me like this.’

‘Are you sure? They could help.’

‘They would try,’ she corrected him. ‘They’d keep trying, and trying, until one day, when they realise they’ve forgotten to live their own lives. They’ll die of old age, or become too disillusioned and give up, bitter and resentful. I can’t ask that of them.’

Adrien regarded her hopelessly. ‘You're too kind for your own good.’

She gave a humourless bark of laughter. ‘Apparently.’

‘Maybe I could come visit?’

Adrien couldn’t interpret her expression, but he hoped it was something positive.

‘You would do that? You’d want to?’

‘Sure. I can bring you stuff to read, matches, candles, a torch, extra batteries. Maybe some more chalk, anything. All you have to do is show me an exit, and a way to find you again.’

Laboriously, Marinette hauled herself to her feet. She approached her shelves, and crouched low, pulling out a sheet of paper marked with thick, charcoal lines.

‘I’ve mapped some of the surrounding tunnels. Just follow the main route, and you won’t get lost. If you do get turned around, just yell. I’ll hear you.’

Adrien accepted the proffered sheet, committing the page to memory. Then, Marinette picked up the storm lantern, and led him down the tunnel opposite the one he had entered through, the way surprisingly straightforward.

Distantly, Adrien head the sound of rushing water. ‘Are we near the sewerage system? I don’t smell anything.’

‘You can hear it through the walls,’ Marinette informed him. ‘There are covered grates, though, to keep the odour out.’

‘There are no bones, either,’ he noted, with some surprise. ‘I thought the catacombs were nothing but bones.’

Marinette laughed, a pleasant sound in their grim surroundings. ‘The Ossuary’s far away from here, and only comprises a small portion of the tunnels. The rest are simply the old mines, but are often mistakenly referred to as the catacombs.’

‘You sure know a lot about it.’

‘Sometimes, my parents send me stuff to read, along with food, letters, and other supplies.’

Adrien was intrigued. ‘How do they do that?’

‘There’s a shaft, from the centre of the bakery’s kitchen floor, to the ceiling of my chamber. They lower a basket on a rope, and wait for me to tug on it twice before pulling it back up.’

Adrien hummed thoughtfully, making a mental note to examine the ceiling of the chamber the next time he visited. He’d never been into the Dupain-Cheng bakery, but he wondered what he’d see if he were allowed to enter the kitchen. He supposed a trapdoor would be too conspicuous, but drag marks and scratches on the floor were likely.

Marinette led Adrien to a grate high in a wall. He felt a draught come through as she shoved it open, and shivered in anticipation. She had to give him a boost so he could reach the opening, and he wriggled through with alacrity, to remove his dirty shoes from her person rather than in his haste to get away from her.

Once he was kneeling on the other side, Adrien saw train tracks extending out on either side of him, a dank breeze ruffling his hair. He turned back to the grate, peering inside to wave goodbye. Marinette peeked back at him, lit from beneath by the lantern.

‘Thank you so much for your help, Marinette. I promise I’ll return as soon as I can, but I don’t know when that’ll be. My dad is really overprotective.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s ok, I know you have a life to lead. I’ll see you when I see you, I guess.’

He appreciated her pragmatism, but the undercurrent of wistfulness in her tone didn’t escape him. ‘Bye for now, Marinette.’

‘Bye for now, Adrien,’ she returned, looking forlorn.

With a final wave, he got to his feet and followed the tracks to a familiar station. He had never thought leaving the miserable tunnels would be so painful.


	20. Sabine

The front door rang the hanging bell as someone entered the shop, Brigette’s excited voice calling out, loud and excited. Sabine shoved the basket of supplies for Marinette into a low cupboard, and kicked the door shut just as Bridgette swung around the doorframe.

‘They found him,’ she shrieked.

‘Found who?’ asked Tom, as he entered through the rear door.

‘Adrien. Apparently, he just turned up, filthy and starving, at a train station last night. He’s recovering in hospital, but he’ll be back at school soon.’

Sabine’s heart twisted. She was relieved for the boy and his family, but it was a bittersweet feeling.

After Marinette had been transformed, she and Tom had consulted with dozens of magic users. All of them told her that transformative curses were nigh unbreakable without the magician who cast the spell, and the best they could offer was to make Marinette as comfortable as they could while they waited for her to die.

She and Tom had been aghast at the suggestion of allowing her to starve to death, but Sabine knew Marinette had no quality of life hidden in the musty old tunnels. So, she tried to enrich Marinette’s existence, with books and letters, as best she could. Lately, it hadn’t felt like enough, and her daughter was still suffering.

When Bridgette and Tom headed to the front of the store, Sabine removed the basket from its impromptu hiding place, and put the supplies back where she had found them.

Following her family into the shop, she forced a smile.

‘Isn’t it a relief, Aunt Sabine?’ Bridgette asked, her face flushed.

She nodded. ‘His family must be so happy.’

Tom placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and squeezed.

Wringing her hands, Bridgette lowered her gaze to the floor. ‘Maybe there’s hope for Marinette, yet.’

‘Adrien was only gone for a few days,’ Tom told her gently. ‘Marinette has been missing for months. The chances of us getting her back alive and unharmed is minuscule.’

‘I know,’ she replied, frowning. ‘But we can still hope for the best, right?’

Sabine didn’t see the point in arguing. ‘Yes, Dear. We can hope.’

Bridgette spent the rest of the day happily going about her chores, and making the local deliveries. It was too much for Sabine. Once the door swung shut behind Bridgette, Sabine crumpled to the floor and sobbed.

Tom crouched beside her, rubbing her back with soft shushing sounds.

‘We’ll figure something out,’ he murmured.

Sabine shook her head. ‘We’ve asked every magic professional we could find. They all said the same thing – Marinette is as good as dead.’

‘Come now, if we – ‘

‘No,’ Sabine interrupted, sharply. ‘It’s like you once said, it’s time we accepted the loss and move on.’

Leaning back, he said, ‘you can’t be serious.’

Pained and conflicted, Sabine quickly grew exasperated. ‘Be realistic, Tom. That half-life she has down there is no life at all. She’s alone, secreted away with no hope of a future. She has nothing to look forward to, except madness and an early death.’

‘Then what do you suggest?’ he asked, warily.

‘I’m saying,’ she replied, taking a deep breath, ‘that we take our own advice. We let her go, peacefully and mercifully.’

Tom reared back, appalled. ‘You want to let her die.’

‘She’s going to die, anyway. If we let her starve to death, at least it’ll be faster.’

‘It’s inhumane.’

‘Is it? When our pets suffer from injury or illness, we put them down rather than let them suffer. The families of people in comas make the decision to let the patient starve because it’s too painful to keep them hanging on, after all hope of recovery is gone. Some countries have even legalised euthanasia to ease the pain of loved ones. How is this any different?’

‘Because Marinette is neither old, nor sick, or comatose. She’s alive, awake, and healthy. Just transformed, that’s all.’

Sabine threw her hands up. ‘But she’s still suffering. I love her dearly, but I can’t allow my only child to continue to live like that.’

Tom didn’t look convinced. ‘So, what, we just stop giving her food, just like that?’

Placing her hands on her knees, Sabine looked at the floor. ‘We do it gradually; send less food less often. She’ll grow weak and tired, then one day, after she lies down to sleep, she just won’t get up again.’

‘You seem to have thought about this a lot,’ Tom said, his voice carefully neutral.

Sabine squeezed her eyes shut. ‘This isn’t easy for me either, you know. I don’t want to do this any more than you do.’

‘But you’re still entertaining the idea.’

‘I don’t know what else to do,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t want to murder my child, but I hate the idea of her ongoing suffering even more. Do you think that in five, ten years from now, she’ll thank us for leaving her in that state?’

Tom shook his head. ‘If she chose to die, then she would stop eating of her own volition. We can’t make that decision for her.’

‘Then what are we to do? You’re saying we put our lives on hold until such a time when we can confirm her suicide? How would we ever know?’

‘We send her letters, and she writes back. We’ll be able to observe her state of mind in her writing.’

Sabine snorted. ‘She already writes of crippling loneliness and depression. Blind Freddy could predict her descent into madness.’

Tom stood up. ‘I won’t have any part of this. It’s too cruel.’

Releasing a weary sigh, Sabine watched his back. ‘At least think about it. Keeping her down there, like some dirty little secret, is taking a toll on us. Even if we kept going as we are, we’re stuck here until you change your mind, or until we can confirm her death.’

Tom strode off, his back straight and stiff. Sabine leaned back, resting her head against the cupboard door, and closed her eyes. She didn’t want Marinette to have to live like that, but allowing this to go on was only going to cause them all pain in the long run.

She hoped Tom would come around soon.


	21. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate summer...

Agitated and anxious, Felix paced his room. He’d just come back from the hospital with Gabriel after seeing Adrien, and he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel. Felix had been so sure of himself, so adamant he’d made the right decision, but after seeing Adrien in that hospital bed, withered by starvation and dehydration, he was no longer so certain.

Memories of Emilie’s last few months bubbled to the surface, when she’d looked so sickly and pale as she lay abed, pretending she was only a “little off.” She’d lost weight, and heavy shadows had hung below her eyes. Adrien looked much the same.

Felix ran a hand through his hair. He had everything he wanted, primarily, his role as Gabriel’s successor. His place had been assured, and Gabriel was not a fickle man.

However, something still twisted Felix’s guts into knots, a heaviness sat on his chest which reminded him of his mother.

_Guilt_ , his mind whispered.  _You did that to him. You put your own brother in the hospital_.

Felix shook his head adamantly. ‘No, I’m stronger than that. I don’t feel things. I’m cold, like stone.’

_Lies_ , his innermost thoughts hissed.  _You just want people to think that so you never make meaningful connections_.

‘That’s just stupid,’ he snarled, aloud.

_You don’t want to be hurt again, like when Mother died_.

He clamped his hands on either side of his head, and gritted his teeth in an attempt to stop the insufferable voice.

_You can’t deny the truth_.

He shrieked in frustration, willing the voice into silence. He was positive he’d done what he had to, to ensure his future. Felix didn’t want his years of hard work to amount to nothing, thwarted by his inadequate sibling.

He had been so confident, at first.

In the days following Adrien’s disappearance, Felix’s conviction had dwindled as he watched Gabriel drift about, caught in his own memories. His father’s appetite had dropped, leaving his eyes sunken and hollow. It was all too reminiscent of the days preceding Emilie’s passing.

Felix had to constantly talk himself up, assure himself it was all for the best, that it was what he had to do.

But his personal pep talks only lasted for so long. His conviction dropped a little more each day, with each sighting of Gabriel’s haunted features, and his own callous visage reflected in the mirror.

Then, Adrien had been found, staggering out of a Metro tunnel filthy and bedraggled, but alive by the station hands. They had taken him to the hospital, fearing he was a runaway abuse victim.

Once the confusion was cleared up, Gabriel had been called. He ran from his office, barking orders to get the car ready, and to fetch Felix immediately. Nathalie almost ran into him on the stairs, her normally impassive face lit with emotion. She’d hustled Felix into the car with a barely coherent explanation.

The immediate easing in his chest was ruthlessly quashed when Felix felt his position could be threatened. He held on to that resentment all the way to Adrien’s bedside. But, upon seeing his brother for the first time, all feelings suddenly fled. Before him lay a shadow of his brother, a thin, pale facsimile who had no right to call himself an Agreste. Yet, when he smiled, a familiar light returned to his eyes.

‘Hey, Felix. How’re you doing?’ he’d asked, his lips tilting in a weak smile.

It was in that moment when Felix realised that Adrien hadn’t figured him out. Adrien simply continued to smile, blissfully ignorant, as Gabriel held his hand and tried not to cry.

Felix felt his chest tighten uncomfortably, gave them a curt nod, and left to wait just beyond the door. He told himself, and anyone who asked, that he was only giving his father and brother a moment together. He ignored the burning in his gut.

Now, Adrien was scheduled to come home to finish recuperating there. His condition was deemed non-critical, and was released soon after he’d had some food, water, and rest.

Felix continued to pace. Once Adrien regained full use of his faculties, he was sure to realise who had abandoned him in the old mines.

_You deserve punishment_ , his thoughts told him.  _You should be afraid_.

‘I'm not afraid,’ he snarled.

_Lies_.

There was a knock on his door.

‘Felix, Adrien would like to see you,’ Nathalie announced through the wood.

Felix marched to the bathroom to fix his appearance in the mirror.

‘I’m not afraid, and I don’t feel guilty,’ he told his reflection.

Nodding once in satisfaction, he spun on his heel and left the room. Nathalie was nowhere in sight when he emerged, so Felix trekked to Adrien’s room alone. He hesitated at the door, then forced himself to knock.

‘Come in,’ Adrien called, his voice reedy.

Adrien’s bedroom was just as juvenile, and as filled with mindless entertainments, as Felix remembered. Trophies and banners decorated the spaces between amusements, testament to his many interests and accomplishments. Felix feigned idle interest while he delayed looking directly at Adrien. His brother waited patiently, simply watching Felix’s progress.

Finally, Felix reached his bedside. Adrien still looked thin and tired, but some colour had returned to his cheeks.

‘How are you feeling?’ Felix asked, blandly.

Adrien shrugged. ‘Better. It was nice to be able to shower in my own bathroom again.’

Felix almost smiled. ‘I imagine. You haven’t missed a bath since you were eight.’

Adrien gave a rueful laugh. ‘When you realise that bad smell is coming from you, it makes an impact. But how about you, are you ok?’

Nodding, Felix cleared his throat. ‘As well as can be expected.’

‘Father told me you were announced as his successor.’

Felix nearly choked on his saliva. He didn’t think Adrien would want to discuss business again so soon after coming home. But since he was, it was possible he had realised who had dumped him in the mines.

‘Yes, he did,’ Felix replied, reminding himself to not jump to conclusions or react in such a way that would reveal his part in Adrien’s disappearance.

But Adrien merely nodded. ‘Good. That’s all you’ve been working toward these last few years. I’m glad your hard work has paid off.’

Felix was equal parts confused and relieved. He was glad Adrien hadn’t seemed to have figured him out, but the question was why. He had all the pieces, he just needed to put the puzzle together.

‘I should let you rest,’ Felix said, before Adrien could say any more. ‘I believe you’ll be returning to school soon.’

Adrien grinned. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I can’t wait to see everyone again.’

Felix paused at the corner by the foot of Adrien’s bed, one hand gripping the wall. ‘Welcome home, Little Brother.’

With that, he slipped from the room before Adrien could reply. He berated himself for being sentimental, then rationalised it by thinking that showing relief at Adrien’s safe return would remove him from the suspect list.

He retreated to the library, where he pulled out a particularly large volume, and placed it on the desk. He opened the creaking cover, but couldn’t focus on the words. His shoulders were tense, and his belly squirmed. He was anxious about what Adrien might say to Gabriel, and how that would affect his place in the company. If he were lucky, Adrien really didn’t suspect him, and wilfully denied all the evidence pointing toward him.

However, while Adrien might be willing to let this slide, Gabriel never would. Now that Adrien was home, there was nothing to stop their father from delving into the investigation and ruining the culprit’s life.

Felix gulped, wondering if he’d not only dug his own grave, but Gorilla’s as well. Gorilla had been against the plan from the outset, but he still had to follow orders. He felt no loyalty toward Felix, and would reveal him as the mastermind easily, if it meant securing some leniency for himself.

Drawing in a deep breath, Felix attempted to calm his spiralling thoughts. Detectives had been around since the beginning, and no one had realised it was him yet. He was panicking for nothing, but just to be sure, he would dispose of Adrien’s belongings still hidden in the secret compartment behind his shelves.


	22. Alya

The morning Adrien was due to return to school, Alya had to keep a steadying hand on Nino’s shoulder. He practically vibrated with suppressed energy as he stood at the bottom of the school steps, eagerly awaiting Adrien’s arrival.

‘Will you calm down? Your buzzing isn’t going to bring him here any faster.’

Nino frowned at her over his shoulder. ‘Leave me alone. I’m just happy my boy is ok.’

Sighing, Alya shook her head and released his shoulder. Immediately, he began wriggling, shifting his weight from foot to foot, and shaking his hands out.

Alya was glad for them both, and equally relieved that Adrien had returned to them unharmed. But a small part of her railed against the unfairness of it all. She wanted her friend back too, and for everything to go back to normal. It was unfair that Adrien got to continue living while Marinette did not.

She bit her tongue at the uncharitable thought. Tragedies happened every day, and no one got to pick and choose who returned, and who didn’t. Yet, because of the lack of evidence, the police had concluded Marinette had not met with foul play, thus ruling it as an accident. This left Alya with no one to blame, which was as much a relief as it was infuriating.

Deciding to focus on the positives, Alya was glad not only for Adrien’s safe return, but also for not having to get her friends involved in law breaking activities. Her plan to remotely hack Adrien’s phone hadn’t worked, as Max had been too finicky about which software to put on his own phone, and Sabrina had almost been caught snooping in her father’s office. They had both pulled out after that, so nothing had ever come of Alya’s unorthodox plan.

Nino squealed as Adrien’s car pulled up, pulling Alya from her thoughts. Adrien stepped from the vehicle, looking tired but happy. Nino raced forward to wrap him in a bear hug before Adrien had even closed the door. Then, everyone had surrounded him, laughing, crying, and hugging him as well as each other. He returned the enthusiastic welcome graciously, assuring them all he was fine.

Alya waited on the steps, watching the reunion with a bittersweet smile, her heart too full, and wrenching painfully simultaneously.

The bell rang, but the crowd didn’t disperse until Adrien began to move forward. They parted before him, then fell into step at his sides, and behind him, still trying to touch his shoulders or pat his back. He paused on the step below Alya, looking up at her with a faint smile.

‘Hey, Alya.’

‘Hey, Daffodil.’

He surged forward to hug her tight. Alya returned the embrace, relief eclipsing all other emotions.

‘I’m glad you’re back,’ she said, sincerely.

‘Thanks. I’m glad to be back.’

She gave him a final squeeze before letting go. He stood back, his eyes over-bright, then they walked side by side up to the classroom.

The school took on a festive air – a vast improvement after the last seven months. People laughed openly, hugged between classes, and smiled so wide their cheeks ached. Adrien was the centre of attention wherever he went, and Nino was his constant companion. As a result, Nino basked in the reflected glory, caught up in the affection showered on Adrien. No one minded, even joking that he was now Adrien’s new keeper.

‘I’m not letting him out of my sight ever again,’ he declared. ‘I take my eyes off him for one minute, and he goes and gets lost underground.’

Adrien had the good graces to look embarrassed, but Alya was intensely curious. No information had been released as to why he’d vanished, and Adrien hadn’t explained much either. She found his case extremely strange, and was itching to ask him about it. However, as he was completely surrounded all day, she had no opportunity to pull him aside to ask.

 

* * *

 

Tuesday followed a similar pattern, but Alya supposed it was for the best. She didn’t want to seem pushy, nosy, or insensitive, so she smiled and laughed while she bided her time. Everyone would calm down in a few days, so she could ask her questions then.

Bridgette kept her company in the meantime, as she was uncomfortable in the large crowd of near-strangers. She was glad Adrien was back safe too, but she confessed to feelings of envy and bitterness.

‘Life’s so unfair,’ Bridgette murmured, as they sat on the stairs to the upper level.

It was lunchtime on Tuesday, and they’d both brought a packed lunch. They watched on as the crowd around Adrien grew, everyone inviting him to eat with them. Alya didn’t have to ask to what she was referring.

‘It’s completely arbitrary,’ she replied, softly. She picked at her sandwich, plucking out the radish slices Marlena had added.

‘Do you think I’m selfish for thinking like this?’ Bridgette pushed her lunch around its container with her chopsticks.

Alya didn’t know what it was, but it smelled good. She assumed it was a typical Chinese dish, and if Bridgette didn’t want to eat it, she would. It was bound to be better than radish contaminated sandwiches.

‘I wouldn’t say selfish,’ Alya disagreed. ‘It’s probably pretty normal, and Adrien wouldn’t blame you. He’s not that type of person.’

‘I thought so, too. I just wish I could be as happy about his return as everyone else.’

Alya shook her head. ‘You were Marinette’s family; you’re still in mourning. We understand that.’

‘Thanks.’

‘How are Tom and Sabine, these days?’

Bridgette paused for a moment. ‘Remember when I said they don’t seem as grieved as mourning parents ought to be?’

‘Yeah, we assumed they mourned in private.’

‘Well, I’m beginning to think I was right the first time.’

Alya turned to stare at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

Bridgette pursed her lips, her brow furrowed. ‘When I first arrived, they seemed down, as you’d expect. But their emotions never wavered from there. It was just a steady down-ness, with no highs or lows. I’ll admit I don’t know a lot about the grieving process, but don’t people in mourning go through long periods of tumultuous emotions?’

Alya stammered. ‘I really wouldn’t know. I suppose everyone grieves differently.’

‘They also seemed to get over it really quickly,’ Bridgette went on.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, they suggested we redecorate Marinette's old room. Then we did it, last weekend.’

Alya felt her eyes bulge. ‘What?’

‘Aunt Sabine knew I’ve been sleeping on the chaise, so they suggested we make the room feel more like my own. Ostensibly, it was so I would sleep better, that they wanted me to feel comfortable sleeping in the bed.’

With a gulp, Alya asked, ‘So, what did you end up doing?’

Bridgette looked away. ‘We repainted, bought new bedding, removed the old posters and photos. It was only a superficial redecorating, but now it’s like no trace of her remains.’

‘What do Tom and Sabine think of that?’ Alya asked, her stomach turning uncomfortably.

Bridgette just shrugged. ‘They said it looks good. You know, I was so happy that day. It was the happiest I’ve been in months. But, the more I think about it, the weirder it is, right?’

Alya returned her shrug helplessly. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never lost a close family member before.’

‘I thought I could be mature, like Aunt Sabine and Uncle Tom. That’s what I thought they were being, mature about everything, and not letting themselves be ruled by their emotions. But lately,’ she trailed off.

Alya’s squirming stomach suddenly clenched. ‘But what?’

‘They’ve been acting differently the last few days,’ Bridgette explained, quietly. ‘They’re tense, and short with each other. Every time I walk into a room, they fall silent, like I’d interrupted something, but I feel like I could cut the tension with a knife.’

‘That is weird.’

‘I don’t know what caused it, or what to do about it. Uncle Tom seems angry, though he tries to hide it, and I can’t even describe how Aunt Sabine’s been. She’s acting like everything’s normal, but I feel like she’s on a hair trigger. It’s weird and uncomfortable, and I don’t know how to make it better.’

‘First of all,’ Alya said, holding up her index finger, ‘it’s not your place to make everything better. Whatever is going on with them, it’s up to them to fix it. That’s not on you, understand?’

Bridgette stared at her for a moment, before nodding. ‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘I’m sure they’ll sort themselves out, in time. Who knows, maybe their suppressed emotions are finally catching up with them, and they have to face their grief now.’

‘That doesn’t sound so unreasonable,’ Bridgette haltingly agreed.

‘Still,’ Alya continued, ‘maybe do some research on family grief. If nothing else, it might give you an idea of what to expect.’

‘Good idea, I’ll start this afternoon. Hey, can I ask you something?’

Alya cocked an eyebrow. ‘Yeah?’

‘How did you cope with the loss of Marinette?’

Alya released a long sigh. ‘Not too well. I blew up at her parents when I finally got a hold of them, then I spent ages just searching. When I found nothing wandering the streets, I asked around, but no one saw anything. I turned to maps next, trying to see if there was a hidden hole or narrow gap she could’ve gotten stuck in. But I found nothing. I was forced to give up after Juleka’s magic failed to find her.’

‘Why were you forced to give up?’

‘I had no other ideas, or leads. Without direction, I had nowhere to go.’

‘Wasn’t that hard?’

She nodded. ‘Very. I told myself I just needed a break, that after some rest, I could come back to it with fresh eyes. But no inspiration struck, no new theories presented themselves. I guess I’ve resigned myself to never knowing Marinette’s fate.’

Bridgette hummed, noncommittally, then resumed eating her cold lunch.

Alya sighed as she bit into her sandwich. Now that she had admitted to giving up out loud, it felt more real, like an admission of her failure, and of Marinette’s untimely demise. She could always change her mind, but she doubted she would ever find a reason to.


	23. Bridgette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

Following Alya’s advice, Bridgette started researching family loss that evening. She was glad for the excuse to leave the kitchen, claiming she had homework to finish as Tom and Sabine continued to sit in uncomfortable silence.

However, what she found online was not reassuring. According to the statistics, more than half of the couples who lost a child split up after a short time. The odds were overwhelmingly against Sabine and Tom staying together, and judging by their recent behaviour, a divorce was imminent. 

Bridgette did want to witness the breakdown of their marriage. She thought of returning home, but her conscience railed against the idea. She couldn’t abandon them now, even if life in the Dupain-Cheng household was about to take a turn for the worse. Despite whatever was going on, they still needed her help with the bakery, and around the home. To leave now would only exacerbate the situation.

She sighed, resting her chin in her palm as she stared at the screen. Their family was already so small and broken; she didn’t know if they could endure any more tragedies. Surely, they’d been through enough already.

Tears stung her eyes. Rather than fight them, Bridgette let them fall. It was better to let her feelings out, and she always got the most terrible headaches when she tried to suppress it.

Fat tears trailed down her cheeks to drip onto the keyboard. They splashed her fingers and trickled into the crevices between the keys. When her nose began to run, she snatched a tissue from the box and blew.

The unladylike honk used to make Marinette laugh. Unbidden, Bridgette's lips quirked up. Marinette’s laugh had always been catching.

Bridgette let memories of happier times bubble to the surface. Buoyed by remembered joyfulness, her misery ebbed. She closed the tab with the damning statistics, to turn to her social media accounts.

Catching up on the doings of her friends and family back home, she posted that she was doing well, and all was fine. She knew they would only worry if she told them the truth, so she kept the reality of her situation to herself for the time being.

She might discuss her concerns with her mother over the phone, but at a later date. She was feeling too raw, and suspected it would be a few days before she could talk about things rationally. Knowing her mother, she would ask Bridgette to return home, rather than remain in a toxic environment. Bridgette hoped Sabine and Tom worked out their differences before she called home again.

Unfortunately, her tenuous grip on peace was short-lived.

The following morning, when she came down for breakfast, Tom was nowhere in sight, and Sabine bustled about the kitchen with sharp, jerky movements. Her lips were pursed into a thin line, and her brows were furrowed fiercely.

Perching silently on a stool, Bridgette helped herself to the cereal, avoiding looking directly at Sabine. Every time she slammed a drawer or cupboard door, Bridgette flinched. She ate quickly, then scurried back to the safety of her room, the echoes of slamming doors following her.

She finished getting ready, then braced herself for the sprint downstairs, to the relative peace of the outside world. Lifting her trapdoor up, Bridgette raced down as quietly as she could, to exit through the rear door, bypassing Tom completely. Tom was usually gentle and calm, so it felt unnatural to be anxious at the prospect of seeing him, but even the kindest person can be frightening when they’re angry.

Once the door was closed securely behind her, Bridgette slowed to a walk. She didn’t have Marinette’s unfortunate habit of oversleeping, so she didn’t need to run to school. Besides, running would draw unwanted attention to herself.

Gathering an air of tranquillity about herself, Bridgette walked toward the school, to be greeted by Alya.

‘Morning, Bridgette. Are you ok? You look pale.’

 Slumping against the bannister, Bridgette slid to the ground. Alya sat on the step above her, watching on expectantly.

‘I did some research like you suggested,’ she said, closing her eyes.

‘Yeah, and?’

‘It doesn’t look good. A huge percentage of parents break up after losing a child, and I think Aunt Sabine and Uncle Tom are fighting. It seriously looks like a divorce might be on the table.’

‘Wait, hold up. They’re fighting now?’

Bridgette shrugged. ‘Not that I’ve seen, but Aunt Sabine was definitely ticked off about something, and Uncle Tom was already in the bakery when I came downstairs. He usually joins us for breakfast, but not today.’

‘Could you possibly be reading too much into things?’

‘I don’t know. I sure hope so, but Aunt Sabine’s face this morning would suggest otherwise.’

‘Oh dear.’

At that moment, Adrien’s car pulled up. He was greeted enthusiastically by the other students, though not as many as the last couple of days.

‘Looks like things are beginning to calm down already,’ observed Alya as she watched the group.

Bridgette hummed an agreeing note. She didn’t want to think about Adrien at the moment.

‘I wonder how he found his way out,’ Alya mused, almost to herself.

Bridgette shrugged again, unsure if it was a rhetorical question. Alya was hard for her to figure out. She often thought aloud, and Bridgette had no idea if she wanted a response or not. Usually, she would follow someone else’s lead, but when it was just the two of them, she defaulted back to noncommittal hums and shrugs.

Yet, for all her quirks, Alya was a good person. She was loyal, devoted, passionate, and would have been a good friend for Marinette. Perhaps if she and Alya had met under different circumstances, they would have been good friends too. As it was, Bridgette felt they were more like friendly acquaintances, and nothing more.

When the bell rang, she followed the crowd to class. Most of them were happy, as Wednesdays were a half day, but as the hours ticked by, Bridgette grew anxious.

It was an alien feeling, to be afraid to go home. She delayed the inevitable by accepting an invitation to join a group of them in their search for magic ice-cream, and thus managed to forget about her woes for a few more hours.

Eventually, she had to go back, but was relieved to find that Tom was still busy in the kitchen, and Sabine had calmed down. Bridgette ran a couple of deliveries nearby, and performed her usual chores without prompting before going to her room to see if she could design anything. It was cathartic for her, and she felt almost like her old self again by dinner time. Mercifully, Tom and Sabine had come to some sort of truce, so the evening meal was almost pleasant. Bridgette was immensely relieved, and hoped the rough patch was over with.


	24. Adrien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonne année

It wasn’t until Thursday when Alya finally caught Adrien alone in the locker room, just after lunch had let out. He gave her credit for holding out as long as she had; he thought she would pounce on him his first day back.

‘Hey, Sunshine,’ she called, with a friendly wave.

‘S’up. I suppose you want to hear all about my harrowing experience?’

Alya chuckled awkwardly. ‘If that’s all right with you.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t mind, but I’m afraid there’s not much to tell.’

‘We’ll see. Is now a good time?’

‘Should be fine. Can we get something to eat, though? I’m famished.’

Adrien didn’t want to go somewhere as public as a café or restaurant, nor did he want to taker her back to his place. Gabriel had been especially wary of strangers the last few days, not that Adrien could blame him, so he hoped Alya had an alternative in mind.

She hummed as she thought. ‘How about we grab something from somewhere close by, and take it back to the library? We should be fine so long as the librarian doesn’t catch us.’

He agreed, but was dubious about taking food into the library. They strolled outside, before weighing up their options.

Adrien pointed to the bakery. ‘What about there?’

Alya paused, looking uncomfortable. Immediately, Adrien felt bad for suggesting she go back there, but he’d heard Alya’s last meeting with Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng had gone well. He was confused by her sudden hesitation, and was just about to suggest an alternative when she spoke again.

‘Sure, we can go there.’

They approached the quaint storefront, and Alya took a moment to indicate the decals on the windows.

‘Marinette designed these,’ she informed him, like a proud parent.

Curiosity piqued, Adrien followed her inside like an obedient puppy.

A diminutive woman stood behind the register, wiping down the counter with a cloth. He guessed she was Marinette’s mother. She looked tired and careworn, with deep lines bracketing her eyes and mouth. It seemed grief had aged her prematurely. Adrien felt sorry for the woman who felt like she’d had no choice but to conceal her daughter in the tunnels.

‘Good afternoon, Madame Cheng,’ Alya said, leaning over the counter to hug the older woman.

‘Hello, Alya. It’s good to see you again. How are you?’

‘Well enough, you?’

‘Coping,’ Sabine sighed, ‘as usual.’

Alya drew back, and held out an arm toward Adrien, beckoning him forward.

‘Madame Cheng, this is Adrien. I imagine you’ve heard all about him.’

Adrien approached, nodding politely. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘You too, Adrien. So, what brings you both here today?’

‘We wanted to get something to eat before Alya grills me on where I spent the last week,’ Adrien replied with a teasing grin.

‘You don’t need to make it sound so sordid,’ Alya groused, while Sabine laughed.

Adrien couldn’t help but notice Sabine’s laugh was nothing like Marinette’s. It was too high, sounding brittle and forced at the same time. He guessed that was what happened when someone bore such a large secret.

They bought a box of assorted foodstuffs, then carried it back to school. No one promised to make a return visit to the bakery.

Ducking into the library, they darted between the shelves to a desk by the back wall. No one would see them there, unless they came looking, so Alya was sure they would get away with bringing food into the library.

‘I’m not sure we should be eating in here,’ Adrien argued, looking at the books.

Alya placed a handkerchief on the desk before her, then a tissue across her lap. ‘Then don’t touch the books, and pick up all your crumbs.’

Following her lead, he lay a tissue over his own lap, and used another as a plate. Alya nodded in approval, then selected a slice of quiche.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, before Alya commenced her interrogation. She withdrew a pen and a notebook from her bag, then looked to him with an avid expression.

‘So, tell me what happened. Was it a kidnapping, or did you run away?’

‘Wow, you get right to it, don’t you? Well, since I didn’t go of my own volition, I suppose it would classify as a kidnapping.’

‘That’s pretty scary. Can you tell me what happened?’

‘Not really,’ he drawled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Alya cocked an eyebrow. ‘Why not?’

‘I don’t really remember what happened,’ he replied, with a small shrug.

‘What’s the last thing you do remember?’

He leaned back and rubbed his chin, as he thought back. ‘I was in my room, practising the piano.’

Alya hummed an acknowledgement, waving her pen for him to continue.

‘Then, someone grabbed me from behind, holding a stinky rag over my face.’

‘A stinky rag?’

‘Chloroform, I guess. I lost consciousness.’

‘And you got nothing of your attacker?’

He held his hands up in a helpless gesture. ‘They held me down easily, so it was someone bigger and stronger than me. That’s all I noticed.’

‘Ah, I see. What happened when you woke up?’

Adrien described the tunnel as best he could, but only touched lightly on what was going through his mind. He discovered he disliked reliving that particular moment, with its fear and uncertainty. He moved on quickly, to describe the scritching noises that drove him from his initial spot, and of the seemingly endless wandering through pitch black tunnels.

Alya nodded along, waiting patiently when he paused, though her pen never stopped scribbling.

When he reached Marinette’s role in the narrative, he hesitated briefly, before a lie rolled easily off his tongue. She had been adamant he not tell anyone of her existence, so Adrien told Alya he felt a draught, and followed it to a metro tunnel.

Alya was unsurprised. ‘If you hadn’t been blinded, your other senses may not have sharpened enough to feel something like that. A draught is very subtle, so you’re lucky your other senses compensated for the loss of your eyesight.’

‘Hey, that’s right. I didn’t even think of that,’ he said, going along with her theory.

‘So, who do you think could have left you down there?’ she asked.

Adrien shook his head. ‘I have no idea,’ he replied, honestly.

‘You don’t suspect anyone? You haven’t noticed anyone acting strangely lately? Since you were in your bedroom, it almost had to have been an inside job.’

He stilled. ‘Well, Felix has been acting weird, recently. But that’s because of the succession.’

Alya’s head snapped up. ‘What succession?’

‘The one over who will take Father’s place in the company after he retires.’

‘Were you one of the candidates?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Who else?’

‘Only Felix. Father wants to keep it in the family.’

Alya’s eyes narrowed as she tapped her pen against her lips. ‘You said your brother has been acting strange lately?’

‘Yeah, but he’s been distant since Father said I was going to inherit the company.’

‘Jealousy?’

‘I don’t think so. I told Felix that I didn’t want to be CEO, and that I would refuse Father’s offer. Felix had been working to take over Father’s place for years now. I didn’t want to take that away from him.’

‘But when your father said you were going to inherit the position, Felix’s place wasn’t secure anymore.’

Adrien frowned as he stared at the tabletop, trying to remember that day. ‘Father called us into his office to talk. He said that since Felix hadn’t made any significant contributions to  _Gabriel’s_  bottom line, the role of successor was going to fall to me.’

‘Because your modelling has brought in revenue.’

‘That’s right.’

‘So, in a jealous rage, Felix had you kidnapped and left for dead in the old mines, thus clearing the way for himself to take over the company.’

Adrien frowned, furrowing his brow. ‘No, it can’t be. The timelines don’t match up.’

Alya tilted her head. ‘Timelines?’

‘Father told us about the change in succession, like, more than a week before my abduction.’

Alya didn’t look convinced. ‘I’m afraid this still makes your brother the prime suspect. It could be that he just needed a week to come up with a plan to get you out of the way long enough for him to be announced the heir.’

Adrien crossed his arms. ‘I don’t appreciate where you’re going with this.’

‘I’m sorry, but I have to consider all possible avenues. It’s the nature of journalism.’

‘Then what are the other possibilities?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘I suggest you come up with an alternative, because if you go public with this, Father, Felix, or both of them, could sue you for defamation.’

Alya held her hands up, her complexion turning ashen. ‘Whoa, I never said I’d go public.’

‘Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.’

He strode from the library, feeling cross. Alya had no right accusing Felix, and if she had any sense, she would keep her theories to herself. Gabriel would not tolerate anything that reflected badly on his family, or his business, and he would pursue Alya until she gave in.

Wilfully putting her from his mind, Adrien waited out the remainder of the lunch break in the classroom.

He tried to think of a way he could slip out of his house unnoticed. It had been a week already, and he wanted to see Marinette again. He had made her a promise, and he intended to keep it.


	25. Sabine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 新年快乐

Tom was still angry over Sabine’s suggestion, but she was no longer sure if that rage stemmed from her plans, or his own impotence. She supposed the two were not mutually exclusive, as he huffed and scowled about the bakery and house while continuing to give Sabine the cold shoulder. However, he wasn’t actively working against her either.

Sabine had dropped back to only sending Marinette two meals per day, with no snacks, and only a brief letter outlining their day to day lives. It was a harder plan to act on than she realised, and sometimes, she had to force herself to walk away, whenever the urge to send more things down overcame her.

She berated herself mercilessly for being a bad parent, slowly starving her only child to death, and for not protecting her in the first place. With Tom’s subtle hostility, the emotional burden was almost too much to bear.

Sabine sniffled as she pulled the basket back up the shaft. At the bottom of the wicker basket sat a return letter, folded carefully in half and lightly smudged with dirt. Sabine threw it into the oven, unread. She and Tom always made sure to destroy all evidence of Marinette’s continued existence, but during the last week, Sabine hadn’t read any of Marinette’s missives. They were always the same, detailing the dark and dirty conditions, the creepiness, the loneliness, and she always finished by asking if they had found a solution yet. So, if Tom asked about what she had written, Sabine could reply that it was the same as usual. Not that he bothered to ask much, lately.

Sabine pushed the worktable back with a grunt, then swept the kitchen floor, literally covering her tracks. She didn’t want Bridgette getting too curious about the scrape marks. The trapdoor was well concealed, but it wouldn’t hold up under close inspection.

The bell over the door jingled, heralding the arrival of a customer. Sabine fixed a smile in place, then went out to greet them.

 

* * *

 

Tom returned from Fu’s place unusually sombre. His shoulders were hunched, and his face was drawn as he shuffled into the kitchen.

‘Oh dear,’ Sabine murmured. ‘Is Monsieur Fu unwell?’

‘He hasn’t been taking his medications,’ Tom replied, forgetting he was irate with her.

She placed her hand over her cheek in shock. ‘Why not? His poor heart.’

Bracing his hands on the table, Tom slumped forward as if his woes had physical weight. ‘It’s gotten too expensive. He can’t afford the pills on top of his living expenses. His rent alone is exorbitant, not to mention his utilities and food.’

‘Is there anything we can do to help?’

‘I’ll reduce his fees here, and slip him something extra, but he’s a stubborn old coot. He doesn’t want charity.’

Sabine shook her head, upset on Fu’s behalf. It was unfortunate, but his situation was not uncommon.

‘He may be stubborn, but he’s lucky to have you to look out for him, Dear. There aren’t many people who would sacrifice profit for the sake of an old man in need.’

‘You’re selling people short, my Heart,’ Tom rebuked her, lightly. ‘There are plenty of people who would help. But the sad fact is, there aren’t many who are in a position to. According to Fu, many kind people of his acquaintance are as bad, or worse off than he is. Then, on the other end of the spectrum, some people want to help, but don’t know what type of reaction they’d get.’

Sabine tilted her head. ‘What do you mean?’

Tom sagged even further. ‘I once saw a young man try to give an elderly woman on the street some money to buy food. But she just screamed and threw trash at him. It was like a part of him died in that moment; you could see it in his eyes. In an instant, that boy’s generosity soured, and he walked away muttering about how ungrateful homeless people are.’

With a world-weary sigh, Sabine wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I see. But Fu wouldn’t react as violently as that.’

‘No, he wouldn’t’ Tom agreed. ‘Though I wouldn’t put it past him to try to sneak money back into my pocket.’

Sabine breathed out a feeble laugh. Despite the dire news, she was relieved Tom was speaking to her again. Her heart thrilled at the endearing moniker, and she wondered if there was more to his suddenly friendly mood.

‘Listen,’ he said, looking uncomfortable. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said, about Marinette’s situation.’

‘Yes?’ she prompted, after he’d paused for a moment too long.

‘I don’t like it,’ he bit, as his face tightened around his eyes and mouth.

‘Neither do I,’ she replied, softly.

There was another lengthy pause. Sabine wondered if he was going to continue.

‘We’ve done everything we can, right?’ It was a question that begged her desperately to find an alternative, but knowing there wasn’t one.

Sabine squeezed her eyes shut, her fists clenching on her sleeves. ‘I think we have.’

‘We fought so hard for our baby girl.’

Tears stung her eyes as she nodded. She tried to give him a verbal response, but all she could do was gasp in a choked sob.

Then, Tom’s arms were around her, holding her close in a trembling embrace. She unwound her arms, to wrap them around his middle, her face pressed into his chest.

‘I never wanted this,’ she moaned into his shirt. ‘I never wanted our baby cursed beyond salvation. I certainly don’t want her to die. But we’ve looked everywhere, asked everywhere, but nothing’s worked. She’s so unhappy, Tom. I don’t know what else to do.’

Tom uttered shushing sounds while he stroked her hair and rubbed her back. Sabine could feel him shaking, as he suppressed his own misery for her sake.

‘It’s merciful, right?’ he eventually whispered. ‘Painless?’

‘Quick and painless,’ she lied. ‘She’ll just get tired and sleepy as her body tries to conserve energy. Then one day, she just won’t wake up.’

Tom gulped in another breath and nodded, his embrace tightening. It was a lie, and they both knew it. There was nothing quick or painless about dying of malnutrition, but Sabine needed to reassure him, and herself, that they were doing the right thing. Justifying their actions as merciful was all they had left.

Yet Sabine knew she would never forgive herself for this, even as she knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she knew Marinette was still down there, suffering. It was a lose-lose situation, and she was damned no matter which path she took. At least she had Tom back on her side; they would share the burden and carry their terrible secret to the grave.

They stood like that, supporting one another, for a long time. Eventually, Tom drew back and wiped under Sabine’s eye with a gentle finger. She dredged up a smile, and held his hands, squeezing tight.

‘We still have each other,’ she told him.

‘We also have Bridgette,’ he added.

‘As well as the rest of our families.’

Bridgette chose that moment to swing around the doorjamb, her entrance through the shop gone unnoticed.

‘You guys made up?’ she asked, clearly relieved.

‘Yes, Dear,’ Sabine answered. She didn’t deny the recent hostility, but chose not to elaborate either.

Either Bridgette didn’t want to know the details, or she was too relieved to care. ‘Thank goodness.’

‘Why don’t you spend the afternoon with your friends?’ Tom suggested. ‘Things have been quiet here, and most of the cleaning is already done.’

Bridgette gasped, hopefully. ‘Is that really ok?’

‘Yes, Sweetheart,’ Sabine replied. ‘Go ahead.’

With a whoop, Bridgette spun around to dart back outside, the door rattling in its frame after her exuberant exit.

‘She would never forgive us if she found out,’ Tom mumbled.

‘She’s not going to find out. As long as we keep this strictly between us, no one will know. No one need ever know. This is our cross to bear.’

Tom just sighed, then pulled away to make the afternoon’s stock.


	26. Adrien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have enjoyed this small chapter dump this evening!  
> This is for those of you who, like me, have nothing better to do on New Year's Eve.  
> Still, I wish you all a safe and happy new year :D  
> May 2019 bring you all joy, peace, and good health. See you next year!

Ten days had passed before Adrien found an opportunity to slip away from his father, friends, and bodyguard. He had argued bitterly with Gabriel to let him spend time with his classmates outside of school, and was reluctantly granted permission on the proviso that Gorilla accompany him. So, surrounded by his friends, and tailed by his bodyguard, they went to the arcade.

Nino and Alya went straight to the claw machine, Kim challenged Alix to a game of air hockey with Max as the referee, while Rose and Juleka hopped on the Dance Dance Revolution deck. Ivan and Mylène waged war on the Whack-a-Mole, and Bridgette took on Sabrina in a rhythm game, with Chloe watching from the sidelines. Nathaniel tried to shoot a basketball through a hoop, with minimal success, as Marc cheered him on.

Once they were completely engrossed, Adrien called to all and nobody that he was going to the restroom. Nino waved a distracted acknowledgement, while Chloe scrunched her nose up.

‘We don’t need a running commentary on your bodily functions, Adrikins.’

Adrien smirked, and ducked out the door. Hiding behind a crowd of strangers, he avoided the watchful gaze of his bodyguard, then darted to the nearest Metro. There, he caught the train to the station he had been found at, and followed the tunnel to the grate Marinette had left open for him.

Upon locating the small aperture, Adrien sat down and scooted forward before rolling onto his belly for the descent. He slithered in, feet first, to ensure a safe landing. Once inside, he pulled his new phone from his pocket, and used the torch to examine his clothing. The dirt wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, so he brushed himself off, and followed the path he’d memorised from Marinette’s map.

His footsteps echoed, the crunch of displaced pebbles loud in the stifling stillness. But he wasn’t scared or blind this time. He kept his phone out, illuminating his path to avoid turning an ankle on the uneven ground.

A train passed by, the sound muffled by the centuries-old stonework. By the time it had faded into silence, Adrien was close enough to Marinette’s sanctuary to hear her humming softly.

Her voice was low and soothing, nice to listen to. He followed the sound up to her doorway, where he hung back for a moment to observe. Marinette had her back to him as she scribbled on the wall with a stone. The drawings weren’t as clear as the chalk or charcoal ones, but he could see what she was trying to create. It looked like a formal evening gown, with a fitted bodice and full skirt _._

Marinette stopped humming, taking a step back to examine her work.

‘It’s amazing. You’re really talented, Marinette.’

She flinched before turning around. Her stiff plating prevented her from pivoting at the waist, so shehad to turn around in a circle to face him, her legs turning it into a laborious process.

‘You surprised me,’ she told him in disapproving tones.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to.’

She sighed, her frown turning into a tentative smile. ‘You really came back.’

‘I said I would.’ Encouraged by her smile, he couldn’t help but grin. ‘You really are talented. My dad would love you.’

Marinette tilted her head. ‘Your dad?’

Feeling heat suffuse his cheeks, Adrien rubbed the back of his head. ‘My father is Gabriel Agreste.’

‘The fashion designer?’ she gasped.

‘Yeah.’

‘Of course, I should have known. I’m such a dummy. I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you.’

Holding his hands up, he tried to reassure her. ‘It’s ok. I was so grimy last time, I doubt I would have recognised my own reflection. Besides, sometimes it’s nice not to be recognised.’

‘If you say so,’ she agreed, dubiously.

‘Trust me, the novelty of being famous wears off. _’_

Marinette dropped her stone and sank to the floor, in an approximation of sitting down. ‘I can’t believe you actually came back.’

Adrien sat as well, maintaining eye contact. ‘I made a promise.’

‘Most people wouldn’t be so noble.’

‘I’m not most people. Yeah, it was difficult to get away from everyone, and I’m bound to catch a barrel of trouble when I get home, but it’ll be worth it.’

‘You’re very kind. Thank you.’

Adrien blushed at her sincere praise. ‘You’re welcome.’

Marinette scuttled forward, eagerly. ‘Tell me how everyone is.’

With a genuine smile, he told her about everything that had occurred since they last met. She gasped when he mentioned Sabine, so he elaborated on what he knew of her parents without prompting.

‘She covered it well, but I think your mother misses you a lot.’

Marinette’s gaze dropped to the ground as she frowned. ‘I was beginning to think she’s starting to forget about me.’

Surprised, Adrien asked, ‘what makes you say that?’

She picked up her rock to fiddle with it. ‘They don’t send me as many supplies anymore, and Maman’s last letter was unusually brief.’

‘Maybe because they were busy. I heard they redecorated your old room – ‘

Adrien clapped both hands over his mouth, ashamed of his tactlessness.

Marinette stilled. ‘They redecorated my room?’ she asked, quietly.

Letting his hands drop into his lap, Adrien nodded. ‘Yeah. Bridgette told Alya, Alya told Nino, and Nino told me. I’m sorry, this must be a shock.’

She shook her head. ‘No, it’s ok. They probably couldn’t stand to be surrounded by reminders, particularly if Bridgette is staying in my room.’

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he gave a noncommittal hum, and waited for her to continue the conversation.

‘How can you stand to come back here?’ she eventually asked, putting the painful subject firmly behind them.

Adrien shrugged. ‘It’s not so scary with a light, and some idea of where I’m going.’

‘That’s not what I mean.’

‘Then what do you mean?’ Adrien asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘How.’ She paused, rubbing her arm self-consciously. ‘How can you stand to look at me? I’m hideous.’

‘No, you’re not,’ he responded, vehemently.

Marinette gave him, what he guessed, was supposed to be a withering look. ‘I’m a giant creepy crawly, Adrien. I don’t need you to spare my feelings.’

He was struck by a sudden certainty that she had never had a proper look at her cursed form. ‘You’ve not actually seen yourself, have you?’

‘I’ve seen enough to know that I’m the ugliest person alive.’

‘Now you’re just wallowing,’ he chided her, gently.

She frowned at him again. ‘Considering my current situation, I think I have the right to wallow.’

Adrien put his hands up in a placating gesture. ‘Ok, yeah, your circumstances are not ideal.’

She snorted at the understatement.

‘But,’ he continued, ‘things could always be so much worse.’

‘Like how?’

Adrien’s expression turned sombre as his shoulders sagged. ‘You could have lost your parents that night. Take it from someone who knows, anything is better than losing the people you care about most.’

Marinette shrank in on herself. ‘Yeah, ok. I must sound like a whiny brat to you. I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t have to apologise, but you’re luckier than you realise. A lucky little ladybug.’

‘There’s nothing “little” or “lucky” about me. Wait, why a ladybug?’

He met her eyes with mild surprise before recalling she didn’t know what she looked like.

‘Your shell; it’s read with little black dots, just like a ladybug. You know, some people believe ladybugs bring good luck.’

_'_ They do?’

‘Yeah, you didn’t know that?’

She held her hands up in a shrug. ‘I used to adore ladybugs, but I’ve never heard that. But then, I’ve never been superstitious.’

He tsked at her. ‘How could you not know about your peoples’ heritage? For shame.’

Marinette spluttered indignantly. ‘Ladybeetles are not my people.’

‘They would be so sad and hurt to hear you say that.’ He shook his head, reproachfully.

‘Stop teasing me, you colossal dork.’

Adrien gasped, laying the back of his hand across his forehead. ‘Oh no, you’ve discovered my one true flaw. I shall wither and die of embarrassment.’

To his delight, Marinette giggled.

‘A dork with a flare for dramatics. Does you dad know how silly you are?’

Adrien heaved a sigh. ‘Alas, all of his wrinkles are the result of years of stress brought on by me. I’m not ashamed to admit it.’

‘You should be, you unfilial son.’

They joked and teased, mostly at Adrien’s expense, until he realised he’d lost track of time.

‘I’d better get going,’ he said reluctantly, as he got to his feet.

Marinette sighed and rose as well, but she was smiling. ‘Thank you for coming. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.'

As they began the trek back down the tunnel, Adrien offered, ‘I can come back. I’ll probably be grounded for a month after today, but I can visit again as soon as I’m free.’

‘I’d like that, thank you.’

‘I could bring you some supplies, too, like chalk, pens, paper, whatever.’

Marinette stopped to stare at him. ‘You’d do that for me?’

He looked back up at her in bemusement. ‘Of course, we’re friends, aren’t we?’

Marinette’s lips eased into the biggest smile he’d seen so far. ‘Yes, absolutely. We’re friends.’

With matching grins, they parted ways at the open grate. Adrien waved into the shadows, then ran back to the station platform.

Once he was out in the open, his phone blew up with messages, each more desperate than the last. He noticed that the texts were only from Chloe, Nino, and Alya, not from Gabriel or one of his employees. He answered them in turn, before racing back to the arcade where they waited for him impatiently.

‘Dude, you owe me big-time,’ Nino informed him, flatly. ‘Your bodyguard is one tenacious man.’

Adrien rubbed the back of his head, smiling nervously. ‘Thanks, man. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.’

‘You’d better,’ Nino hmphed.

‘Where were you, anyway?’ Chloe asked, shoving Nino aside.

Nino glowered at her, before Alya slipped under his arm. She coaxed him into a smile as she rubbed his back, all of them awaiting Adrien's answer.

Adrien felt sweat run down his back. ‘I was, uh, just looking around. I’ve been cooped up for so long, I was beginning to forget what fresh air smells like.’

‘Can you really describe Parisian air as fresh?’ murmured Alya, sceptically.

Adrien heaved a melodramatic sigh. ‘Ok, you got me. I heard the new Mecha Strike game was being released soon, and I wanted to put in an advanced order. There, happy?’

‘That makes sense,’ Nino said, with a negligent wave of his hand.

‘You nerd,’ Chloe added.

‘If that’s all you wanted, why not tell us? We could’ve come with you,’ Alya informed him.

Adrien shrugged helplessly, with an embarrassed chuckle. Nino shook his head, then led the way down the street, Gorilla falling into step behind them, apparently none the wiser.


	27. Felix

Felix paced, restless and anxious to dispose of the incriminating evidence still in his possession. He had been mapping the surrounding area, and learning the schedules of those around him for days, looking for the ideal opportunity to finally be rid of Adrien’s things. So far, no such time had presented itself.

To complicate matters, the police were still sniffing around, and their magical enforcement unit was closing in on him. He only had a short amount of time left before they found him out.

Seized by a sudden uprising of panic, Felix took Adrien’s keys, wallet, and phone from their hiding place, and bundled them up in a brown, knit cardigan. This he shoved into a bag he then slung over his shoulder.

Drawing an air of calm assurance around himself, he strode from his room.

He was opening the front door when Gabriel emerged from his office.

‘Felix, where are you going?’

Felix’s spine snapped straight. He suppressed the urge to run, and forced himself to face Gabriel with a neutral expression. It wasn’t a habit of his to go for walks, nor was he inclined to do his own shopping. His mind scrabbled for a feasible lie, before Gabriel spoke again.

‘Be careful, and take your bodyguard. After what happened to Adrien, I don’t want you taking unnecessary risks.’

Felix nodded as Gabriel re-entered his office, then darted outside alone. He hurried down the steps, then jogged to the gate. He breathed a sigh of relief once he was beyond the grounds, then stood up straight.

Deciding one direction was as good as any, he turned right and strode onward. At the end of the block, he saw Adrien’s school on the opposite corner. Overcome by curiosity, he walked by as students streamed inside, in pairs or small groups, chattering among themselves.

By chance, he caught the eye of a girl with long, dark hair in pigtails. She smiled and waved, her eyes twinkling, with a light blush tinting her pale skin.

Felix gulped, tipping his head in polite acknowledgement, before moving on. His face felt hot, and his breath was short, his heart thumping uncomfortably. He shook his head, clearing it of the pretty girl’s smile.

He crossed another road, and rounded another building. The block beyond housed a park, occupied by too many people. If he were seen in such an unlikely place, and Adrien’s possessions located within a reasonable walking distance, it wouldn’t take long for the investigators to turn to him.

Gripped by uncertainly and mounting panic, Felix turned to a nearby dustbin, and upended his bag. Everything inside tumbled into the can, including the hideous knit cardigan still balled round Adrien’s things.

Felix then swung the bag back over his shoulder, and continued walking as he glanced surreptitiously about for witnesses. He didn’t see anyone, so he picked up the pace, to almost jog to the next corner.

He spent the next hour wandering aimlessly around, before realising he needed something inside his obviously empty bag before he went home. Patting himself down, he made sure he had his wallet in his back pocket before entering a store at random.

He was on his way home when he passed Adrien’s school again. The bell was ringing, and students poured from the massive double doors, still gossiping loudly.

Felix paused, deciding at the last minute to wait for Adrien.

_It’ll make me look good, to be seen escorting my brother home,_  he reasoned.

Adrien exited with a group of three others, including the pretty girl he’d encountered earlier. They laughed at something, then parted ways with a wave, and a cheery goodbye at the base of the steps. Unbidden, Felix’s eyes followed the pretty girl as she crossed the road.

A throat cleared noisily in front of him, pulling him back to his surroundings. Adrien was grinning at him, delighted and devilish in equal measure.

‘Her name is Bridgette.’

Felix coughed delicately into his fist. ‘Good for her.’

He turned resolutely around to resume walking. Adrien fell into step beside him.

‘I could introduce you,’ he offered, still grinning.

‘No thank you, I’m much too busy.’

Adrien looked dubious. ‘No one’s too busy to meet a hot girl.’

Choking on air, Felix rounded on his brother. ‘Do not speak so disrespectfully of a lady, Adrien.’

Adrien reared back, blinking at the outburst, before his knowing grin returned. ‘It just so happens that my friends and I have an economics assignment coming up. I could invite them over to study, seeing as we have such a comprehensive library. I’m sure Bridgette would love some help. She says it’s not her strongest subject, even though her family’s in business.’

‘You and your friends can study where you like. It’s no concern of mine, as long as you’re quiet.’

‘We might do that, then,’ Adrien smirked. ‘I bet Bridgette would be very grateful for your help, too.’

Felix kept walking, ignoring Adrien’s jibes. His mood was tempered by the knowledge that he’d just disposed of the evidence of his crime, as well as the guilt of nearly getting his brother killed.

However, Adrien still hadn’t put the pieces together, or he was still wilfully ignoring it. He didn’t speak of his time underground, nor did he ponder on who had left him there. Felix was left to believe he just wanted to put the experience behind him.

They met Gabriel in the foyer, who frowned at Felix for only a moment before enveloping them both in a stiff embrace. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but Adrien returned the hug with enthusiasm. Felix thought it would be churlish to not participate, so he hugged them both back with a resigned sigh

His heart absolutely did not clench.


	28. Alya

Watering her plants, Alya smiled fondly at the memories of Marinette on her balcony, performing the same task. It hurt less and less to remember her now, though it still rankled that there would never be an explanation.

Etta and Ella crashed into the apartment, squealing exuberantly, as a harried Otis trailed in after them. Marlena was working another late shift at the hotel, and was unable to pick the twins up from school. Alya would have offered to do it, but she had homework piling up, and wanted to get as much done as possible before the girls came home. She had completed about three quarters before deciding she needed a break, and the plants wanted a watering.

‘Hey, Dad,’ she greeted Otis with a peck on the cheek. ‘Have a good day?’

He nodded, wearily. ‘The panther gave birth at quarter past five this morning, so we had to give them medicals and observe them closely for the rest of the day. I love those cubs, but I am glad to be home.’

Alya winced in sympathy. ‘That is a long day, but at least you know the breeding program has been a success.’

Otis’ answering smile was small, but satisfied. ‘Yes, it’s a huge relief. Things will go back to normal soon, too.’

Alya patted him on the head, then retreated to her room. She got a little more homework done, then was interrupted by Nora’s boisterous return. Nora had moved out with her “friend” a few months ago, but came back so often, it was like she never left. Between her and the twins, there was no chance of peace, so Alya gave up on her homework to begin preparing dinner.

Otis obediently chopped vegetables while Alya did the rest, apparently grateful for her quiet company and only expected to perform the bare minimum.

‘It’s nice to see you happy again,’ he murmured.

Alya’s shoulders drooped as she let out a breath. ‘I’m still upset, but I think I am finally ready to move on. Don’t tell Bridgette that, though. I think she feels pretty alone in her grief, especially at home.’

Otis’ brows shot up to his hairline. ‘At home?’

Alya shrugged. ‘She’s got it into her head that Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng aren’t mourning enough. She feels like she can’t really talk to them about it, so she confides in me. I’m sorry for her, I really am, and I try to be supportive and empathetic, but I’m ready to begin looking ahead. Am I a bad person for thinking she’s going to drag me down at this rate?’

‘Sometimes, you have to help yourself before you can help others,’ he told her. ‘If you need to, you can put some space between the two of you. You won’t be of any help if you’re as depressed as she is.’

‘But if I distance myself from her, she won’t have anyone.’

‘What about her friends and family back home?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Alya drawled. ‘It’s weird, but she doesn’t really talk about them much.’

Otis hummed thoughtfully. ‘I’m no expert, but the best thing I can suggest is to help her move on as best you can. I know they never found a body, but maybe you could hold a memorial service, just for you and your friends. Gather somewhere nice, say a few words, and scatter some flower petals. Almost like what we did with your grandmother’s ashes.’

‘That’s, actually, not a bad idea. I think we could all use the closure, even if it is purely metaphorical. It’s the symbolism that counts, right?’

‘Exactly,’ Otis replied, with a smile.

Immediately, Alya began putting plans together. She would need invitations, an abundance of flower petals, a location, and approval from Tom and Sabine. She was sure they would be ok with it, and Alya would make sure to extend an invitation to them as a courtesy. But she had no idea where she would get enough flower petals. She would have to ask her classmates for a small donation so she could buy the flowers from a florist. She doubted she would be able to get rose petals, but she could use camellias instead.

 

* * *

 

Later, after Nora had gone home and the rest of her family was abed, she texted Nino, asking what he thought of the idea.

_I think that’s really sweet of you_ , he sent back.  _Let me know if there’s anything I can do._

_You can help me pick out the invitations, and distribute them around school_ , she replied.

_Can do, Babe. No problem. Do you want to invite Adrien, and Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng?_

_Yeah, it would be rude to exclude Adrien, and inviting Tom and Sabine is just the right thing to do. Can you think of anything else?_

_Will there be food?_

Alya sighed and shook her head _. Food means we’ll need a venue, and I don’t have the budget for that._

_How about we pitch the idea to Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng? Maybe they’ll offer to provide snacks, and let us come back to the bakery afterwards._

_That’s underhanded, but maybe you’re right about approaching them first. If they don’t like the idea, we can scrap it before anyone becomes invested._

_What can I say? I’m an unappreciated genius_.

Alya’s expression fell.  _Goodnight, Nino._

_Night, Babe_.

She shook her head at his blasé attitude. She knew how deeply he’d mourned, so she was a little puzzled by his cavalier approach. However, boys always did go about more sensitive issues as if they didn’t really care. Joking was how many people coped, regardless of gender. With all that in mind, she couldn’t accuse him of being insensitive, instead looking past his outward projections to realise he was only trying to protect himself from further pain.

Alya exhaled a steadying breath, then kissed her phone before leaving it on her desk to charge.

She would hug Nino tight the moment she saw him again, to reassure him she was still there, and that she wasn’t going anywhere.


	29. Bridgette

Bridgette entered Caline’s classroom, windswept and speckled with rain, to greet three absurdly grinning friends. Alya and Nino looked a little shifty though, while Adrien looked positively gleeful. Immediately, she wondered what he’d done.

‘Bridgette,’ Alya hailed her. ‘Come sit for a moment, there’s something I want to talk to you about.’ She patted the seat beside her in invitation.

‘Ok,’ she replied, suspiciously.

Adrien was bouncing in his seat as she passed, giving her the sudden urge to flee. Instead, she straightened her spine, and sat beside Alya, facing her resolutely.

‘So, I was talking to my dad last night,’ Alya began. ‘He had the idea that since we never got to attend a funeral for Marinette, then we ought to have our own little service. We’ll do all the work, like find a location, supply flower petals, and all that, but we wanted to run the idea by you, first. Do you think this is something your aunt and uncle would like to get behind?’

Bridgette paused, taken aback, as she understood the reason for their earlier shiftiness.

‘I don’t know. It sounds all right to me, but we can ask them during lunch, if you want.’

‘Yes, perfect, thank you,’ Alya gushed.

Bridgette tilted her head. ‘What did you plan to do for this service? It’s not like you have a body to bury.’

‘We were going to use flower petals to symbolise the scattering of ashes,’ Alya explained.

She then went into more detail, describing her plans, supposing she got Tom’s and Sabine’s approval.

Bridgette nodded along, seeing the appeal the longer Alya went on. It was a lovely gesture, and they had all been robbed of the opportunity to say goodbye after Marinette’s disappearance.

She agreed to take them to see Tom and Sabine during lunch, where she hoped they could all sit down and plan the service Marinette deserved.

Bridgette turned to the boys next. ‘Did you two know about this?’

Nino’s expression took a decidedly guilty cast. ‘Alya texted me last night. I have no idea what he’s grinning about.’ He jerked his head toward Adrien.

Suddenly the centre of attention, Adrien paused momentarily before a grin lit up his face once more. ‘Oh, I was just thinking about our economics assignment.’

Bridgette’s face fell as Nino gave him a flat look.

‘Seriously?’ he asked. ‘You’re smiling about homework?’

‘No, you walnut. I asked my dad, and he said we can study at my place.’

Nino leaned back as his eyes widened. ‘Whoa, really? Monsieur Paranoid is going to let strangers into his house?’

‘Ha ha, so funny. But yeah, we’ll have the entire library at our disposal. Felix may even deign to come out of his lair and help.’

Adrien’s’ eyes slid toward Bridgette as he smirked. There was something wicked in his eyes, but she couldn’t fathom why.

_Boys_ , she thought with a mental shrug.

The rest of their classmates filed in, seeking shelter from the inclement weather. Alix shook her head like a wet dog, flinging droplets all around her immediate vicinity, to the protestations of many. She remained unrepentant.

Bridgette got up to take her usual seat, but was forestalled by Alya’s hand on her arm.

‘You can stay if you want.’

Bridgette glanced from Alya’s hand to her face, and back again.

‘Are you sure?’

Alya’s answering smile was genuine. ‘It’ll be nice to have company again. Besides, this corner of the classroom is seriously lacking in female influence.’

Nino swivelled around in his seat, to glare at her in confusion. ‘Was that an insult? Did she just insult us?’ he asked, turning to Adrien.

Adrien just shrugged.

Bridgette giggled at the camaraderie, then drew her tablet and stylus from her bag as Caline entered, calling them to order.

Bridgette considered Alya’s idea of a service, the notion growing more appealing the longer she thought about it. After everyone had been deprived of a funeral, this seemed like the best solution, and maybe she could finally get some closure.

Nothing had come of her suspicions against Tom and Sabine. After she had applied some extensive reasoning, Bridgette had come back to her original conclusion that her aunt and uncle had done most of their grieving prior to her arrival, and did the rest in private.

Bridgette had wanted to show them that she could be mature, to deal with their loss like an adult, and this was her chance. She would champion Alya’s cause, and if Tom and Sabine didn’t like it, Bridgette would encourage her friends to go ahead anyway.

After they were let out for lunch, Bridgette led her small group to the bakery with cautious optimism. There, Alya pitched her idea, with Bridgette, Nino, and Adrien behind her, watching on with wide, pleading eyes.

Tom cleared his throat. ‘I, for one, think it’s a grand idea.’

‘Yes, it’s a lovely sentiment,’ agreed Sabine.

Bridgette and her friends exhaled a collective sigh of relief.

‘Let us know if you need anything,’ Tom went on. ‘We’ll be glad to help.’

‘You’ll be invited too, of course,’ Alya informed them. ‘We aren’t asking in the hopes you’ll provide anything.’

Tom and Sabine exchanged a look, before turning back to Alya.

‘We thank you, that is very generous. We’ll be honoured to attend,’ Sabine replied.

Alya explained what she wanted to do, with Tom and Sabine nodding along with smiles of approval. Then, after a quick lunch in their kitchen, they headed back to school.

Bridgette felt happy, finally ready to shed the weight of her grief. She missed Marinette, but it was time she allowed herself to move on without feeling guilty. Marinette wouldn’t want her to be sad for ever, after all.


	30. Adrien

During the week, Adrien was able to gather a collection of things he could take to Marinette. He had a bucket of extra-large street chalk, two large bottles of water, candles, matches, a torch, and batteries. He had also packed his favourite novel, a sketch book, as well as pens and pencils. He didn’t know if she would be able to hold something as slender as a pen, but he’d never know unless he tried.

Stuffing the goods into a duffel bag, he crept from his room late one afternoon, when he knew everyone would be busy. He was down the stairs and out the door before anyone was the wiser.

As he travelled, he thought Marinette would also appreciate some music, adding his old mp3 player and speakers to his mental list. He would have to ask who her favourite musicians were so he could download any new material for her, and add some things of his own he thought she would like. She seemed to like singing, so he was confident she would be receptive to the idea.

He slunk into the Metro tunnel, then skulked along the wall until he found the open grate, and dropped inside. Once there, he pulled out his phone to illuminate the path with the torch.

Like both times before, he heard her before he saw her. She was humming again, but it was flat and tuneless, as if she were tired.

‘Hello?’ he called, announcing his arrival.

He didn’t want to startle her again, or let her feel embarrassed that he’d heard her singing. At this distance, he could pretend he hadn’t heard a thing.

He rounded a bend in the tunnel, the faint glow from her chamber lighting the area enough for him to see without his torch. He put his phone to sleep and shoved it back in his pocket, following the source of the light.

‘Hey,’ he said, when he reached her doorway.

Marinette was sitting on the floor beside her makeshift table, her torso retracted into her shell.

‘Hey,’ she returned, with a feeble wave.

Immediately, he knew something was wrong. Concerned, he entered the chamber to sit down opposite her, noticing she had only a single candle for illumination.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked. ‘Where’s your lantern?’

Marinette pointed listlessly over her shoulder. ‘Shelf,’ she mumbled.

Confused, Adrien peered through the gloom, until he saw the glint of light reflected off of metal and glass. ‘What’s it doing over there?’

‘Ran out of kerosene.’

Adrien blinked. ‘Your parents haven’t sent you more?’

Averting her gaze, Marinette drew in an unsteady breath. ‘I think they’ve forgotten about me.’

Everything felt like it had stopped moving. ‘No, that’s not true. They can’t have.’

‘But it is,’ she moaned. ‘They’ve been sending me fewer and fewer supplies, and I’m,’ she paused to swallow. ‘I’m getting hungry.’

‘What?’

She bit her lip and shook her head. ‘I still have some food, and I’m trying to ration what’s left, but it won’t last long. I have to hold out until the next drop, but their deliveries have dwindled to almost nothing. I don’t know what else to do, though.’

A surge of hatred flared up Adrien’s chest, hot and intense. He swallowed his anger, then rounded the old crate to embrace Marinette loosely around the shoulders. Her shell made the gesture all but impossible, but she leaned against him, seeming to appreciate the sentiment.

‘I’ll bring you food,’ he told her. ‘I’ve brought you some other things, like chalk and water today. But if you want, I can duck out now to get you something to eat.’

She was shaking her head before he’d finished speaking. ‘No, thank you. I’ll be ok for a few more days, I think. Surely they’ll remember to send me something soon.’

Rage still simmered under his calm façade as he sat by her side. It was obvious that Tom and Sabine were neglecting her on purpose, as there was no way they had forgotten about her, especially in light of Alya’s memorial service. But he couldn’t tell her that. It would only break her heart, which also meant he couldn’t tell her about the memorial either, since Tom and Sabine were involved.

He drew in a deep breath, attempting to focus on Marinette and her needs. Under the unnatural exterior was a scared and lonely girl no older than him.

When she cleared her throat and sat up, he let go. Returning to his bag, he pulled out one of the bottles of water to hand over to her. She took a few careful sips before placing it on her shelf, conscious of how precious a commodity water was in the dusty old tunnels.

It was painful to watch; she desperately needed more, but prevented herself from downing the whole thing, just in case. He handed over the rest of the items he’d brought, hoping to distract her, smiling when she chuckled at his inclusion of the novel.

‘Thank you, this must’ve been heavy. Are you ok?’

Touched by her concern, he nodded. ‘I’m fine.’

He stayed with her for a while, talking about inconsequential things, hoping to break the monotony of her day. He hoped he eased her loneliness, even if he could only stay for a short time. Marinette had nothing to do, so she happily listened to him prattle on about whatever subject came to mind, until it was time for him to leave.

Marinette watched forlornly from the tunnel entrance as he departed, waving him off. She still looked tired and weak, so he’d told her he could make his way out of the tunnels unaided. He had noted on his last trip that the stonework beneath the grate was rough, offering plenty of hand and footholds.

While he was scrambling up the wall, the empty duffel hanging limply on his back, Adrien resolved to hit the gym more often. He would need to be physically strong if he wanted to bring her all of the supplies she needed, like water, kerosene, and food.

He began to compile a list of foodstuffs he could bring next time. Bread, fresh fruit, preserves, and canned foods would travel well enough. He could also find her a garbage bin and a can opener. He then considered stopping by an outdoor living store to buy her a portable camping stove.

_One thing at a time_ , he told himself.

There was only so much he could carry, and he needed to consider Marinette's most pressing needs first. But he could still begin his collection, starting with non-perishable foods, and water.


	31. Sabine

Sabine endeavoured to give the impression of bereaved acceptance in the face of her greatest tragedy. She and Tom stood to one side as Marinette’s former classmates stood by the railing of the Eiffel Tower’s highest viewing platform to release a handful of petals over the side. These were immediately snatched away by the wind, and scattered across the city as whoever had thrown the offerings shared a memory, or said a few words for their lost friend.

There were other people about, mostly tourists, who openly stared at their gathering, apparently unable to read the mood. Instead of politely turning away, they snapped pictures and pointed, yammering loudly.

Marinette’s former enemy, Chloe, surprised everyone with an impatient shriek, just as Rose was concluding her speech.

‘You insensitive louts,’ she yelled at a woman who was filming them on her phone. ‘Can’t you see we’re grieving here?’

To make her point, she snatched the woman’s phone, threw it to the floor, and stomped on it.

Ignoring the woman’s outraged blustering, Chloe lunged toward another tourist with their phone out, but he shied away, acting as if he were never there.

‘Maybe this wasn’t the best location,’ Tom murmured in Sabine’s ear.

Sabine could only nod as Alix joined in Chloe’s mission, shoving the overly curious onlookers forcibly away, while threatening to smash their cameras.

Security was called, and using the tour guides as mediators, it was eventually decided they could continue their service undisturbed as long as they kept it brief.

Giving the authorities the stink eye, Chloe rambled long and loud about her rivalry with Marinette, conveniently remembering to namedrop her father’s position whenever it looked like someone was going to interrupt her.

She continued to act as their personal security guard so the remaining students could say their piece without fear of oglers or time limits.

In total, they were there for a little over an hour, making a nuisance of themselves for officials and tourists alike. No one in their group cared overmuch, as they had all been annoyed by the blatant stares and disregard for common courtesy.

Afterward, Chloe, Sabrina, Nathaniel, and Marc went home, citing prior obligations. Alya, Tom, and Sabine thanked them for attending, while their classmates waved and called their own farewells, promising to meet again at school.

Sabine turned to those remaining, about to offer a meal, and a place to rest, when she was brought up short by Adrien scowling fiercely at her. Quickly, his expression cleared, as though it had never happened, to return her stare blandly.

She turned to Tom, deeply perturbed, to ask if he’d noticed the uncharacteristic display, only to find him engaged in conversation with Kim and Max. Shaking her head, she turned to the group at large, and announced her offer. The prospect of a free meal won them all over instantly, so they followed her and Tom back to the bakery like a row of ducklings.

At the bakery door, Adrien made his excuses.

‘Sorry, guys. I’d like to stay, but my dad only lets me off the leash for so long.’

Nino shook his head. ‘You’d think he’d have a little more compassion for an occasion like this.’

Adrien shrugged. ‘Yeah, well, what can you do?’

With that, he began walking back the way they’d come, his hands in his pockets.

Sabine was glad to see him go. She didn’t like the way he looked at her, as if he knew what she’d done, and was judging her for it.

Putting him out of her mind, she focussed on the remaining children as they milled about the bakery talking quietly among themselves. She hugged the girls, and spoke with the boys, impressed by their maturity and eloquence.

They trickled out, alone or in pairs, until it was just her tiny family once more. It was a lonely feeling.

‘Time to clean up,’ Tom announced, with false levity.

Between them, cleaning didn’t take long. They then trooped upstairs to sit in the loungeroom in reflective silence, while the tv murmured in the background.

Sabine was tired. She had been withholding more supplies from Marinette, and she felt like a monster. Never before had she been so tempted to pick up a spell book, and try to turn Marinette back on her own. Unfortunately, grimoires were not sold to the general populace, and even if she did try to cast a spell, it wouldn’t work.

Children were tested for magical potential at a young age, and once they turned twelve, they began their formal education. It took years of training to learn how to wield magic properly, and for the uninitiated, the results could vary from uneventful, to catastrophic.

Of course, that didn’t stop the frauds and charlatans from attempting to make a quick buck, as she and Tom had learnt. They exploited the desperate and naïve, pretending to perform actual magic, but it was all smoke and mirrors designed to fleece people of their hard-earned money.

Sabine slouched against Tom, resting her head on his arm, overcome by emotional fatigue. He patted her hand sympathetically, then continued to hold it, her smaller hand dwarfed by his. It was almost like he knew what she was thinking, that she had been forced by reality to give up on yet another plan.

‘Do you think we’ll ever find her?’ Bridgette asked.

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Tom replied, sombrely.

Bridgette furrowed her brow. ‘But surely we shouldn’t just give up.’

‘What would you have us do?’ Sabine retorted, with poorly concealed impatience. ‘She’s been missing for close to eight months now. Even if she were alive, perhaps it would have been kinder if she had died at the beginning.’

Bridgette’s eyes bulged. ‘How could you say that?’

Tom held up a hand. ‘We don’t know what she’s been through. If she was hurt by someone, kept alone and scared, I wouldn’t want her to have to live through that after all this time. It would be too traumatic.’

‘She could have therapy,’ argued Bridgette, her voice rising. ‘There’s help available for victims – ‘

‘Enough,’ Sabine snapped.

‘But,’ Bridgette stammered.

‘I don’t want to hear another word about it.’

‘But if we – ‘

‘No. Go to your room, Marinette.’

An uncomfortable silence fell, as Tom and Bridgette both turned to her with their eyes wide and mouths agape.

Sabine swallowed thickly and stood up, retreating to her bedroom. She needed to be away from everyone for a while.


	32. Bridgette

Still smarting after Sabine’s reprimand, Bridgette left the bakery on Sunday morning without saying goodbye. She was going to Adrien’s place to work on their economics projects, with Alya and Nino, to take advantage of the Agreste library.

‘Sweetheart?’ Tom called after her, as he poked his head out the bakery door.

Reluctantly, Bridgette turned back, but made no move to approach him. She raised a brow in silent enquiry.

‘It’s impolite to show up at someone’s house empty handed,’ he told her with a teasing smile. ‘Here, take this.’

Bridgette eyed the proffered pastry box for a moment, before stepping closer to accept it.

‘How did you know I was going to someone’s house?’ she asked. She hadn’t told anyone her plans for that day, the information slipping her mind after everything that happened.

‘You have your school bag on a Sunday. I assumed you were visiting someone for a study session.’

Bridgette hummed a noncommittal note, then turned back around, the handle of the pastry box clutched tightly in both hands.

‘She didn’t mean it like that,’ Tom murmured. ‘We love Marinette, and we love you. But it hurts to think about her, whether she’s still alive or not. Just imagine if she had been alive, and in pain, all this time. It breaks our hearts to think she could still be suffering, while we sit here, helpless and ignorant. It’s kinder to let us believe she’s already passed away.’

‘But what if she is still alive? Don’t you have an obligation to keep looking?’

Tom sighed and shook his head. ‘If she were alive, some trace of her would have been found. It’s time to let go, Bridgette.’

‘It doesn’t sound like Aunt Sabine has let go,’ she muttered.

‘She called you that in the heat of the moment. She knows it was you she was addressing, but some habits are hard to break.’

‘If you say so.’

Without waiting for a response, she strode away, crossing the road before the lights changed to green. She kept her back straight, and her eyes forward, determined not to look back.

Bridgette arrived at Adrien’s front gate and took a moment to take in the massive house. Swallowing her nerves, she pressed the doorbell, shifting her weight from foot to foot while she waited for a response.

A camera on an articulated stem popped out of the wall, as a disinterested voice came from the speaker.

‘Yes?’

Bridgette leapt back with a shriek, then watched the camera warily, ready to bolt.

‘Can I help you?’ asked the voice, cool and professional.

Standing up straight, Bridgette faced the camera. ‘Hi, I'm in Adrien’s class. We were supposed to be working on our assignments together today.’

‘Name?’

‘Bridgette Cheng.’

There was a moment of silence as the owner of the voice verified her statement.

‘He’s expecting you. Come in.’

The gates swung open on well-oiled hinges, controlled remotely from inside. Bridgette nodded her thanks, then entered the courtyard.

She stared around her like a country bumpkin, impressed by the scale of the place. However, it was completely lacking in personal touches. There was nothing to indicate two boys had grown up here, which left her wondering how Adrien had fared as a child.

Bridgette knocked on the front door, then flinched when it opened immediately to reveal Adrien’s taciturn bodyguard. She nodded and murmured a polite greeting as she stepped over the threshold, taking a subtle step away from him, out of his reach.

A door by the landing in front of her opened, then Adrien was bounding down the stairs, hollering cheerfully.

‘Hey, you’re here,’ he said, coming to a stop in front of her. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘Thanks for inviting me. Here, these are for you.’ She held out the box of pastries.

Adrien accepted them with a grin. ‘Awesome, thank you.’

‘Will you keep it down?’ snapped an unfamiliar voice.

Worried they had angered his father, Bridgette turned to the right with an apology half way up her throat. However, in the dining room doorway stood a boy their age, but attired as if he were twenty years older. With a start of recognition, she realised he was the boy she had seen a few days before as he walked outside the school.

‘Calm down, Felix. You're going to make a bad impression on Bridgette.’

Felix sputtered into silence, as Bridgette finally made the connection.

‘Bridgette, this insufferable butt is my brother, Felix. Felix, this lovely young lady is Bridgette. Be nice, she was kind enough to bring me a gift. Now come and say hello like a civilised person.’

Felix cleared his throat, drawing himself to his full height. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle,’ he said, with a stiff bow. ‘If there is anything you require, please, do ask.’

Taken aback by his formal greeting, Bridgette found she could only respond in kind.

‘Thank you for the generosity of your hospitality. I hope we’re not intruding.’

‘Not at all. Please, enjoy your stay.’

With that, Felix all but clicked his heels before heading up the stairs and striding out of sight.

Adrien’s cheeks ballooned out before he doubled over with raucous laughter. Bridgette watched, nonplussed, until his wave of mirth ceased.

‘Was it really that funny?’ she asked.

Wiping away a stray tear, Adrien managed to compose himself. ‘Oh, you have no idea.’

Alya and Nino arrived together shortly thereafter, then Adrien showed them to the library, pointing out the bathroom along the way, “just in case.”

They settled around a large desk in the middle of the library, Nino giving a low whistle of appreciation.

Adrien, self-consciously, rubbed the back of his neck. ‘My dad never does anything by half measures.’

They sat down to review the assignment outline, glad it wasn’t a group project. Then, they dispersed to hunt down texts relevant to their chosen topics.

Bridgette was running her finger along a row of spines, reading the titles as she went.

_These have some potential_ , she thought.

‘You have a good eye.’

She jumped, clamping her hands over her mouth to stifle a yelp as she spun around.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Felix blurted, holding his hands out. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. Are you all right?’

With a deep breath, Bridgette brought her breathing back under control. Somehow, he had come up behind her unnoticed.

‘Don’t you make noise?’ she demanded.

He had the good grace to blush, as his face contorted into a grimace. ‘I apologise; it’s not something I do on purpose.’

Bridgette shook her head. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out. I’m ok, really.’

Felix coughed into his fist, his gaze drifting to the side. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to compliment you on locating an excellent series of reference material. Your assignment was on economics, was it not?’

Bridgette swallowed the last of her nerves and nodded. ‘That’s right. Adrien told you?’

‘He mentioned it. Do you require any assistance?’

‘Well, most of my family is involved in the business of food, so I wanted my project to focus on that. Is there anything you recommend?’

Without hesitation, Felix reached behind her to begin pulling books from the shelf. Some he handed to her, others he considered for a moment before putting them back. In a couple of minutes, she had an armload of volumes, staggering under their weight.

Noticing her plight, Felix reclaimed the books.

‘My apologies, once again. Show me where you're sitting, and I’ll carry these back for you.’

He was a strange creature, Bridgette decided. In appearance and manner, he was vastly different from Adrien. He carried himself like a man twice their age, and who looked like fun was a foreign concept. He seemed as severe and serious as the house he lived in, but he had an awkwardness that was endearing, and a blush that was almost cute.

Bridgette bit her lip to stop herself from smiling, lest she give him the wrong impression. She didn’t want him to assume she was laughing at him, or that she enjoyed having a boy wait on her. He had been unexpectedly thoughtful, even phrasing his offer so as not to sound condescending. It would be poor form indeed, to repay his kindness by letting him believe himself the butt of some joke.

She showed him where she’d left her bag, wincing when he deposited the books on the tabletop with a thud. None of her friends were back from their own adventures among the shelves, and she noticed that their workbooks were also missing. Concluding they had decided to do their assignments between the rows of shelving, Bridgette sat down and looked at the question sheet again.

Felix hovered to one side, shifting his weight expectantly. Bridgette was a little put off by his continued presence, until she came to a part of the question she didn’t understand.

With a frustrated huff, she turned to him, holding out the question sheet. ‘Do you understand this?’

He took the paper, read it, then pulled out a chair situated a right angle to herself. He walked her through the project patiently, but without doing any of the work for her. He helped her find relevant sources, or steered her toward an answer, but no more. It was as frustrating as it was gratifying. She appreciated him having faith in her abilities, and his trust in her intelligence, but she was quickly growing tired of the whole thing. After a particularly gruelling section, Felix dragged his chair around until they sat side by side, murmuring encouragements.

The others returned after a couple of hours, and they all agreed it was time for lunch. They ate in the dining room, before heading back to the library to finish up. Adrien kept giving them both strange looks, as if he were immensely pleased with himself, though Bridgette couldn’t figure out why.

By late afternoon, they had all finished, and Bridgette was preparing to leave.

‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle Cheng,’ Felix said, looking flushed.

‘You too,’ Bridgette replied, with a grateful smile.

‘May I escort you home?’

Bridgette waved him off. ‘That’s ok, it’s not far.’

‘All the same, I would feel better knowing you arrived home unharmed.’

Bridgette felt her cheeks heat up, flattered by his solicitousness.

‘Ok, then I would be glad for the company.’

They walked in companionable silence, her arm looped through his, after he gallantly offered it to her. Bridgette wanted to engage him in casual conversation, but found she had nothing noteworthy to say, so she bit her tongue and mentally willed him to break the silence. He didn’t.

They stopped outside the bakery door, Felix looking at the windows with interest.

‘This is me,’ Bridgette announced, with a lopsided grin. Her home was minuscule compared to his, and she worried he wouldn’t be impressed.

‘It’s charming. Your parents must be proud.’

‘Oh, no. This is my Aunt and Uncle’s business. I’m just here to help after a family tragedy.’

She impressed herself by how even and composed her voice sounded, but she wished she hadn’t divulged such a personal piece of information. It was too much for a first meeting, and really brought down the mood after such a successful day.

‘I am sorry for your loss,’ Felix intoned, properly solemn.

Then, he grasped her hand, and brought it up to his lips.

‘I hope our paths cross again, soon.’ He kissed her hand like a knight from legend.

‘Me too,’ she agreed, breathily. Never before had a boy lavished his attention upon her in such a manner. It left her giddy and short of breath.

‘Goodbye, Mademoiselle Cheng.’

‘Bye, Felix.’

She waved manically at his retreating back, forgetting entirely to tell him he could call her by her first name.


	33. Felix

Felix came downstairs to be met with the curious sight of Adrien sneaking out the front door with an overstuffed duffel slung across his back. Felix quirked an eyebrow as he moved down the steps, and was about to call out when raised voices drifted from Gabriel's office.

Felix paused, caught in a moment of indecision – chase after his wayward brother, or investigate the cause of the yelling.

The decision was made for him when the front door closed, and Gabriel’s office opened, Nathalie standing in the aperture. Their eyes met, before she imperiously indicated he follow her inside.

‘Where is your brother?’ she asked, as he drew abreast of her.

‘Study date,’ Felix replied, without thinking.

Nathalie rolled her eyes and sighed, before leading him to Gabriel’s desk.

Before Gabriel, sat Officer Roger Raincomprix, the policeman in charge of Adrien’s abduction case. Felix gulped, but remained silent, choosing to wait and hear what Roger said before jumping to conclusions.

‘Adrien appears to be out with friends,’ Nathalie announced, as she stood behind Gabriel’s shoulder.

‘Sit down, Son,’ Gabriel instructed, gesturing at the second guest chair. ‘Officer Raincomprix has news.’

‘Yes, indeed I do,’ Roger took up the narrative.

Felix began to sweat.

‘We’ve caught those responsible for Adrien’s kidnapping. They’re currently being questioned down at the station.’

‘What?’ Felix yelped.

Roger nodded in satisfaction. ‘That’s right. A sanitation worker found Adrien’s belongings in their garbage can, and reported it to the police. The owners of that can are now our prime suspects.’

Dread settled in Felix’s gut.

‘I would like to speak with those responsible, or at least observe the interrogation,’ Gabriel cut in, giving Roger a vexed look.

But Roger shook his head. “I’ve told you, it’s against regulation, and since one of them is a minor, there are protections in place.’

A thick wad of guilt settled next to the dread in Felix’s stomach, heavy and nauseating.

‘I think we should, at least, be able to see them,’ he opined, hoping to somehow salvage the situation. ‘If we know them, or have seen them loitering around, we might be able to identify them.’

‘Excellent point, Son,’ Gabriel congratulated him, directing a smirk at Roger.

Roger looked mulish. ‘If you want to identify the criminals, then Adrien’s presence would be preferred. He was the one kidnapped, after all.’

‘Wasn’t he unconscious?’ Felix asked, with feigned innocence.

‘I don’t want to put my son through any more trauma,’ Gabriel added. ‘If we think there may be something to this lead, then we can show him your suspects. Until then, I want to spare him unnecessary stress.’

‘Fine,’ Roger relented, with poor grace. ‘Come to the station, but to observe only. Got that?’

Gabriel agreed, equally ungracious. They drove out in separate cars; Roger in his squad car, and Felix with Gabriel, Nathalie, and Gorilla in their own vehicle. No one spoke, or even made eye contact, and Felix felt sweat trickling down his spine.

They pulled up at the precinct, following Roger inside. He led them to a back room, where they looked through a barred window to see a man in cuffs, accompanied by a woman and an adolescent girl, sitting together on a plain bench beside an equally bare table.

The blood drained from Felix’s face as he stared at Bridgette’s back, while she clung to the older woman and wept. Just as he was about to speak, Gabriel barged into the room.

‘How dare you kidnap my son?’ he snarled, slamming his hands on the tabletop. ‘I’ll see you ruined for this.’

Felix rushed in on Gabriel's heels, stammering incoherently, but Gabriel shrugged off his insistent tugging on his sleeve.

‘I will be pressing charges to the full extent of the law. You’re all going away for a very long time.’

As Bridgette’s uncle stood up to defend himself, Felix’s eyes were drawn back to Bridgette and her aunt. She sniffled as she looked up, her eyes meeting Felix’s, looking wide and wet.

Everything felt like it slowed down. He could not believe he was responsible for their current predicament, and cursed himself for a fool. He should have put more thought into the ramifications of dumping the evidence in someone’s personal garbage can, since now, completely innocent people were taking the blame for his crime.

Bridgette surged to her feet, stumbling until she caught Felix’s sleeve. She looked up at him desperately.

‘Please,’ she begged. ‘You know we would never do a thing like that. Adrien’s my friend. Please help us.’

‘Let go of my son, harlot,’ Gabriel snapped, shoving Bridgette away from him.

She fell back onto the bench beside her aunt, cradling her hands against her chest, and staring up at them with a stricken expression.

‘Leave my niece alone,’ barked the large man as he took a threatening step toward Gabriel.

‘Everyone, calm down,’ Roger ordered. ‘Tom, I’ll remind you that you are a suspect, and anything you say or do can be used against you in a trial. Sabine, keep Bridgette in check, please. We can’t have her influencing potential witness testimonies.’

Tom sputtered indignantly, before sitting next to his wife with a scowl. Sabine pulled Bridgette close, wrapping her arms about her shoulders.

‘Now,’ Roger went on. ‘Mademoiselle Cheng seems to know you, Felix. Can you elaborate?’

Felix cleared his throat as all eyes turned to him. ‘She’s in Adrien’s class at school. He brought her, and two others, over the other day to work on an assignment. But I hardly think her capable – ‘

‘Is that the only time you’ve met Mademoiselle Cheng?’ Roger interrupted him.

‘Technically, yes. But,’ he was talked over once more, this time by Gabriel.

‘I let that creature into my house?’ he spat. ‘I want to press charges immediately. They’re going to rot for they’ve done.’

Tom and Sabine began arguing for their innocence, while Bridgette put her head on Sabine’s shoulder and wept. She and Sabine hadn’t been cuffed, but Felix saw a bruise forming on Bridgette’s wrist, in the shape of a large hand. Suddenly, the whole situation was too much to bear.

‘It was me,’ he shouted.

The room stilled as everyone turned to stare.

Hands clenched by his sides, Felix repeated himself in a quieter tone. ‘It was me. I did it, so let these people go. They had nothing to do with it.’

‘No, it can’t be. Why, son?’ Gabriel asked, astounded.

Felix looked at him with undisguised contempt. ‘Really? You want to know why? It’s because of you. I was jealous. You were going to give Adrien everything I had worked so hard for. I saw my life collapsing around me, and thought, what if Adrien wasn’t around anymore?

‘I arranged his kidnapping, I had his possessions brought back as proof, and I was the one who left them in a garbage can.’

He faced Bridgette, feeling wretched. ‘I’m sorry I put you and your family through this. What I did was wrong, and I’m sorry. I meant no harm to come to you. I hope you can forgive my idiocy.’

There was a long moment of tense silence, then Roger cleared his throat.

‘How can we be sure you aren’t just saying that so we’ll let these people go?’ he asked, his pen poised over a notepad.

Taking a deep breath, Felix returned his steady gaze. ‘Adrien’s keys, wallet, and phone were wrapped in an ugly, brown cardigan. On the phone are pictures of Adrien laying unconscious on a dirt floor. His keychain has a small, black cat charm, and his wallet has a picture of him with our mother in it. I left those things in a garbage bin opposite a park, with a view of the Seine and Notre Dame.’ He swallowed thickly, unable to go on.

Gabriel turned to Roger, who nodded his confirmation of the details, before he turned back to Felix with an expression of appalled shock. Without a word, he strode from the room, motioning for Nathalie and Gorilla to accompany him.

‘Well then,’ said Roger. ‘I guess that means you’re free to go, Tom, Sabine.’

He unlocked Tom’s cuffs, and escorted the couple out. Felix tried to meet Bridgette’s eyes, but shame forced him to stare at the floor before he could apologise again.

To his incredulity, Bridgette gave him a quick hug, her damp face pressed into his shoulder.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

Before he could reciprocate the gesture, she was gone, called away by her aunt. Felix was left alone, feeling small and pathetic. He took a seat on the bench, and waited for Roger to return. He took a long time, the wait made to feel longer without the aid of a clock to map the passage of time.

When Roger reappeared, his face was cast into deep lines. ‘I don’t think I need to tell you how serious this is, or how badly it could go for you.’

Felix nodded in grim acceptance. ‘I understand.’

‘However, your father wants to speak to Adrien first. I think he wants to see if Adrien will agree to an appropriate punishment, that may not necessarily involve the law.’

That sentence took a moment to process, but it still didn’t make sense. ‘What?’

‘Gabriel doesn’t want to press charges against his own flesh and blood. For reasons of his own, he wants to keep this out of the courts, and away from public scrutiny. He has even agreed to compensate the Dupain-Chengs generously for the inconvenience they’ve been subjected to.’

‘Hush money, you mean.’

Roger cleared his throat as he pulled at his collar. ‘As you say. However, what this means for you is that you’re free – for now. Adrien may well decide to press charges, as is his right, despite what Gabriel wants. For the time being, we’ll take your confession in full, and put you in the system. You’ll have a criminal record now, so keep that in mind in the future, all right?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Good. Your father’s gone home already, but I’ve taken everyone’s statements, and someone will come get you when we’re done here.

‘Now, tell me why you thought staging an abduction was your only course of action, and who you hired to carry out the deed.’

Felix explained from the beginning, unexpectedly glad to be free of that particular burden.

‘Who did you hire to perform the kidnapping?’ Roger asked, his pen hovering over his notebook.

Felix shrugged. ‘Some thugs. I let them into the house via the rear entrance and they handled things from there.’

He knew he shouldn’t have lied, but he didn’t want to drag Gorilla down with him. Felix might be able to escape sentencing, but there was no such assurance for Gorilla.

‘How did it feel, once Adrien was out of the picture?’

Resting his elbows on the table, with his head in his hands, Felix let out a long breath. ‘It felt good, at first. I got an obstacle out of the way, and achieved everything I’ve worked my whole life for. Then, I had to keep convincing myself I was happy, or at least satisfied.’

‘Then, when Adrien returned?’

‘Fear, shock, guilt. Naturally, I was afraid he’d rat me out. Then, when I saw him in that hospital bed, I was appalled. I nearly killed my own brother. He was so thin,’ he trailed off.

Pulling himself together, he described his growing fear of being caught with the evidence, and subsequent panicked disposal in a random garbage bin.

‘So, your confession today. It was to prevent innocent people from suffering the consequences for your actions?’

Felix nodded. ‘I already felt guilty enough. Bridgette is a nice girl, she didn’t deserve that.’

Roger raised an eyebrow before scribbling in his book.

Felix finished providing his statement, and went through the rest of the paperwork before he was released into his father’s dubious mercy. Gorilla picked him up, staring at him in the rear vision mirror reproachfully.

‘I kept your name out of it,’ Felix told him.

With a grunt, Gorilla’s shoulders relaxed.

Upon his return home, anxiety bubbled up his throat as he climbed the front steps. It had been well over three hours since they left for the station, and wherever Adrien had been heading before they left, Felix was sure he would be back by now.

Gabriel waited with melodramatic grandeur on the landing inside, glaring at Felix in stern disapproval. Adrien stood by his side, staring between them with a perplexed expression.

‘We’ll talk in my office,’ Gabriel announced, his voice hard.

He took the steps slowly and deliberately, his eyes locked on Felix. Felix stood his ground, tired of the mind games, and preceded Gabriel and Adrien into the office. He waited for them beside the guest chairs, his face carefully blank.

Gabriel took his seat, indicating Felix and Adrien sit as well. Adrien obeyed, still confused, and Felix complied shortly after, keeping his expression neutral.

Placing his elbows on his desk, Gabriel steepled his fingers, as he stared at Felix. ‘Tell him what you did.’

Felix hung his head. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Adrien and confessed to everything, sparing no detail, except for Gorilla’s role in the debacle. He maintained the lie he’d told Roger, hoping no one would think to dig too deeply.

Adrien sat in stupefied silence, barely breathing, until he’d finished. Gabriel cleared his throat into the following silence.

‘It’s too late to rescind your place as my protégé. However, since this is what you so desperately wanted, it’s what you’re going to get. Your training begins tomorrow, at five AM sharp, and be prepared to work yourself to the bone. You wanted this title, so I’m going to make you earn it. Got it?

‘Your brother, however, may have another idea in mind.’ He turned to Adrien. ‘What punishment do you think would be fit for a crime such as the one Felix inflicted upon you, Son?’

Adrien sat up straight, blinking in surprise at being addressed in such a way. He stammered for a moment, before closing his mouth to consider the possibilities.

‘I think,’ he drawled, ‘that on top of being worked to death, he should be forced to attend public school.’

‘What?’ exclaimed Felix and Gabriel simultaneously.

Adrien nodded, warming up to the idea. ‘Yeah, to be forced to participate in regular teenage life, deal with schoolyard drama, and constant socialising, he’d hate it. On top of his obligations at  _Gabriel's_ , he won’t have the time, or the energy to even think of committing another crime ever again.’

Felix and Gabriel looked askance at each other, before Gabriel nodded.

‘Very well. After you’ve performed your duties in the morning, Felix, you will attend school, then return in the afternoon to continue your training. You will do everything you are told, without question or hesitation, and you will maintain your grades in the classroom. Heaven help you if I find you lacking in any way, understand?’

‘Yes, Father.’

‘Good. Dismissed.’

Felix wound his way back to his room, unsure how he felt about this new development.


	34. Alya

Alya played with her phone while she waited for her friends to arrive. She had heard some warlock’s spell had gone awry, and wanted all the details as soon as they came to light. She had wanted to track down the beast that had escaped the warlock’s control, thinking of the internship offers she would receive if she caught the monster on film.

Her parents had intervened, however, forbidding her from taking the reckless action. She had vented bitterly to Nino for hours, only for him to side with her parents. Alya still wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to him.

‘Good morning, Alya,’ said Bridgette, as she came up beside her.

‘Hey, Girl. A little warm for long sleeves, isn’t it?’

Bridgette tugged self-consciously on her cuffs. ‘Well, there’s actually a reason for that.’

‘Oh?’

‘But you can’t tell anyone. We’re basically under a gag order.’

Intrigued, Alya leaned in close. ‘What happened?’

‘Aunt Sabine, Uncle Tom, and I were basically arrested yesterday, for kidnapping Adrien.’

‘What?’ Alya shrieked.

Bridgette shushed her with frantic gestures. ‘Keep it down. It’s a secret, remember?’

Alya lowered her voice to a whisper-scream. ‘That’s insane. Your folks would never do something like that. How did this happen?’

‘On collection day, a garbage man found some pretty damning evidence in our bin. He called the cops, and they came bursting in like they were making a drug bust. It was so scary. Uncle Tom tried to protect Aunt Sabine and me, but he was tackled to the floor and cuffed, then Aunt Sabine and I were dragged into a police car. The officer grabbed me so hard it left a bruise.’ She showed Alya the marred skin as proof.

Alya gaped at her in disbelief. ‘Then what happened?’

‘We were taken to the station, and split up for questioning. That was the scariest part. They kept asking things I couldn’t possibly know the answers to, and basically implying I was some sort of criminal. I was so upset, all I could do was cry. Eventually, they left us in a room while they notified Adrien’s family that they’d caught the culprits. It was awful.’

‘What happened after Adrien arrived?’

Bridgette furrowed her brow. ‘It was weird, but Adrien didn’t show up.’

Alya’s own eyebrows shot up. ‘Where was he?’

Bridgette shrugged. ‘No one said.’

‘So, what happened next?’

Her eyes downcast, Bridgette bit her lip. ‘That’s where the gag order comes into effect, but suffice it to say, we were declared innocent and let go.’

Despite her curiosity, Alya let it go. ‘Wow. Are you guys all right?’

‘We’re a bit shaken up, but not harmed. At least all of this happened while the shop was closed. Can you imagine how much the bakery would suffer if that happened in front of witnesses?’

‘Small mercies, huh?’

Bridgette hummed in agreement.

Alya put her hand on Bridgette’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. ‘At least it’s over now.’

‘What’s over?’ interjected Nino, as he came up beside them.

‘Our relationship,’ Alya retorted, remembering she was cross with him.

Nino held his hands out, imploringly. ‘Aw, come on, Babe. I was only thinking of your safety.’

‘I don’t need you to coddle me,’ she told him, crossing her arms. ‘I need you to support my career goals.’

‘I do, right up until the possibility of you getting hurt enters the equation.’

Alya turned her nose up with a huff, as Bridgette looked helplessly between them, her mouth working soundlessly.

‘Uh-oh, don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise.’

Alya whipped her head around to glare at Adrien, but was brought up short when she saw his austere brother standing behind him.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked, pointing at Felix.

Adrien’s answering grin was savage. ‘Felix has decided to enrol. Isn’t that exciting?’

_He sure doesn’t look excited_ , she noted.

A crease appeared between Felix’s brows, his lips pulled into a frown as he stared off to the side.

_Charming as ever_.

‘Hey, man. Welcome to  _Françoise Dupont_ ,’ Nino said, cheerily. ‘You’ll have a blast here, as long as you remember to pull that stick out of your arse.’

Felix spluttered in affront, while Adrien cackled at his expense. Bridgette looked scandalised.

‘Nino, what a thing to say,’ she exclaimed in reproach. 

Nino, however, was unrepentant. He smirked and gave Adrien a high-five, as Bridgette tsked in disapproval.

Felix, who only just seemed to notice Bridgette’s presence, was staring from her, to the ground, and back again. Alya noticed his pink cheeks with interest.

_Oh, so that’s how it is_.

Alya cleared her throat. ‘Adrien, why don’t you introduce Felix to everyone? Help him make some friends. Bridgette, you go, too.’

She blinked at the sudden delegation. ‘Why me?’

‘So, people can see he’s not as stand-offish as he looks, obviously.’

Adrien gasped, clasping his hands under his chin. ‘She can be his lovely item.’

‘His what?’ Bridgette squeaked.

Adrien grabbed her wrist, missing her discomforted wince in his excitement, before dragging her, and Felix inside. Their protests went completely ignored.

Nino put his hands on his hips. ‘What was that about?’

‘Felix likes Bridgette,’ Alya informed him.

He gave her a sceptical look. ‘How could you possibly know that?’

‘Women have a higher emotional intelligence than men.’

‘That’s not an answer.’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘Well, you’re talking to me again. Does that mean I’m forgiven?’

Alya pretended to think, enjoying watching him squirm.

‘What if I took you out on a real, proper date?’ he bargained.

Alya hummed, her interest piqued. ‘What did you have in mind?’

‘Well, I’d start by bringing you flowers, then we’d have a nice meal, and I’d take you to the movies. I’d finish with a stroll through the most scenic parts of the city, and dessert at Andre’s ice cream cart.’

‘That sounds all right. What can you offer to really make it pop?’

Nino placed his hand over his heart, as he leaned toward her. ‘I promise to support, and encourage your career until our dying day, and be nothing but super proud when you earn more money than me.’

Alya grinned at him. ‘Ok, I forgive you.’

Waggling his eyebrows, Nino asked, ‘pick you up at six?’

‘It’s a date. Don’t forget the flowers.’


	35. Adrien

When Adrien couldn’t get to the gym, he spent his time climbing the rock wall in his room, or stealthily hoarding supplies to take to Marinette. He’d already brought her more food and water, as well as kerosene, and his battery powered mp3 dock with speakers. He was pleased to learn she was a Jagged Stone fan, so he'd downloaded the latest album for her. Marinette’s enthusiasm had been gratifying.

When he wasn’t adding to his cache or exercising, he focussed on schoolwork, or the other extra-curriculars Gabriel insisted he continue. He was allowed a brief reprieve from modelling, but Gabriel was beginning to hint that he wanted Adrien back at work soon.

Adrien was considering it. His current workload was becoming easier to manage, thus giving his mind the time and energy to wander back to Felix. Adrien had been trying not to think about his brother too much. It hurt and frightened him that Felix was capable of abandoning his own brother inside the old mines, even if he had seemed genuinely remorseful since Adrien’s return.

So, Adrien kept himself busy and attempted to prove to Felix there was more to life than the drudgery of work. Hopefully, with Bridgette’s influence, Felix would learn to relax, and possibly even fall in love. Nothing tempered a hardened heart like the affection of a sweet girl. It also helped that Alya was willing to play matchmaker, finding every opportunity to throw Bridgette and Felix together. Adrien decided he had done his part on that front, and would gladly hand the reins to Alya.

Adrien stuffed his latest finds into the much-abused duffel, set his iPod playing in its new dock atop the piano, then inched his bedroom door open. The foyer was empty, and Gabriel's office door was shut. Grinning, Adrien slipped out, and closed his door behind him, the mournful piano solo now muffled. Biting his lip, Adrien trotted down the stairs, and out the front door before he was seen, the duffel bouncing against his back. Perhaps it was all in his mind, but the bag felt lighter than it had, compared to previous trips.

Following the familiar route, Adrien found himself at the entrance of Marinette’s chamber in short order, just in time, as his shoulders were beginning to ache.

Marinette was resting on the insufficient camping mat, with her back to him. Adrien tip toed inside, loathe to disturb her in case she was asleep. Quietly, he unpacked the duffel, and arranged the supplies on her makeshift table, where she would see them when she awoke.

He thought of leaving her a note, telling her he would come back another time, when he heard her breath hitch. He watched her carefully for a long moment, worried he had woken her. Adrien took a cautious step forward when her entire body shook.

‘Marinette?’ he called, softly. ‘Are you awake?’

The unmistakable sound of a sob answered him. Rushing forward, he lay one hand on her shell, the other hovering uselessly by her head when he realised her hands were over her face. He had no idea if she could feel him, but she seemed to appreciate the gestures when she saw him touch her. Regardless, he stroked her glossy shell, murmuring soothing shushing sounds.

He remained by her side until she cried herself out, though she was incapable of shedding tears. Eventually, she unfurled herself, and turned her head to face him.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, taking hold of one of her hands.

Marinette sniffled, and took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘They’ve really forgotten about me.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Maman hasn’t sent me so much as a letter since before your last visit.’

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut, and turned away. A part of him wished Felix hadn’t confessed to his crime, so Tom and Sabine could have been sent to prison; falsely accused, but deserving of punishment all the same.

‘Do you see my parents at all?’ Marinette asked, equal parts hopeful, and melancholic.

‘Not often,’ he hedged. ‘Only two or three times since starting school, and then only briefly.’

‘Oh.’ Her gaze fell back to the ground. ‘How did they seem to you?’

It was the question he’d been dreading. If he told her they looked well, it would confirm her fear that they had forgotten about her. If he told her they were unhappy, she would realise they had abandoned her intentionally. There was no correct answer to such a loaded question.

‘I don’t really know. Our meetings were too quick to make an accurate assessment.’ It was a cheap cop-out, and he hated lying to her. In his opinion, Sabine and Tom looked healthy and content. There was a subtle air of sadness about them, but it was as if they were only barely affected by the death of a distant loved one, rather than from the loss of their own daughter.

‘I see.’ She remained quiet for a long time after that.

Adrien couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and he could only guess as to how she was feeling by her tone and body language. In her altered form, he was never entirely certain of anything, but he could see she was deeply saddened. Beyond that, he had no clue.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking,’ he implored her.

Marinette drew in another unsteady breath. ‘How could they forget about me? Did they just move on after Bridgette showed up? Have they replaced me? Was I that expendable?’

Adrien suspected her mind had been running over those questions, over and over, for a long time. Her emotions had spiralled as a result, leaving her depressed and angry, caught in a whirlwind of negative emotions.

He didn’t know how to help her, beyond bringing supplies, and holding her hand while she cried. It made him feel woefully inadequate, wishing he had been born with magic so he could break her curse himself.

_Wait. Break the curse, of course_.

‘Hey, Marinette. The guy who cursed you. What became of him?’

Marinette shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He probably went home. If you’re thinking of bringing him back here to undo what he did, forget it. He’s not the type of man who would do something like that. You’d never find him, anyway. China is huge, and he would know how to cover his tracks. It would be an exercise in futility to even try.’

‘So, he just gets away with it?’ Adrien demanded, incredulously.

‘Sometimes, the bad guy wins,’ Marinette told him, quietly.

‘Not this time. I’m going to find a way to break this curse, and when I do, I'm going to make him pay.’

Marinette’s lips quirked in a feeble smile. ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep.’

‘I'm serious. I’m going to ask around, and see if I can find someone who’ll help. There has to be a magician out there who knows something about curse breaking.’

Stroking his hand, Marinette said, ‘my parents already tried that. They used up a lot of the money my great uncle sent searching for someone who might have that information. But they were fleeced by frauds, or told there was nothing to be done about a curse such as mine.’

‘Your great uncle sent money for that?’ Adrien was confused.

‘No,’ Marinette corrected him. ‘My parents told everyone I’d gone missing, including our family. Uncle Wang sent money to fund the searches, but Maman used it to consult with magic users instead.’

That was more in line with what he’d been told.

‘But they were all dead ends,’ Adrien guessed.

Marinette hummed in confirmation.

He huffed in frustration, but vowed to keep trying, regardless. Marinette was a sweet girl who didn’t deserve to sped the rest of her life locked away in darkness and isolation.

He sat with her until she fell asleep, her breathing evened out, and her hand limp in his grasp. He stood up, and left quietly, misery and rage slowly simmering inside him.

He managed to get his emotions under control by the time he returned home, his duffel straining under the burden of yet more supplies. He stashed the bag in a corner of his cupboard, then went to find something to eat.

He yelped when he found Felix just outside the bedroom door, his hand poised as if he were about to knock.

‘What the hell, Felix?’ Adrien demanded.

Felix crossed his arms. ‘Where have you been?’

Adrien ducked around him. ‘Out.’

‘Yes, well, while you were gone, I had to cover for you, again. That’s the second time this week. Where are you going that’s so important?’

Adrien paused. ‘You covered for me?’

Felix shrugged and looked away. ‘I figured it was the least I could do.’

Adrien opened his mouth, then closed it again. ‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Do you seriously expect me to just accept that?’

With an uncharacteristically serious expression, Adrien looked him in the eyes. ‘Yes.’

‘Will you at least tell me why?’

He hesitated for a moment. ‘It’s not my place to speak of it.’

They stared each other down. Felix looked away first.

‘You’re going to get kidnapped for real at this rate.’

‘Won’t you just be so cut up about that?’ Adrien retorted.

He then spun on his heel, leaving Felix behind him.


	36. Felix

Felix was not put off by Adrien’s unsubtle attempt to get him to stop prying. Unfortunately, Felix was not in a position to investigate the reasons for his brother’s uncharacteristic outburst himself, as Gabriel had been as good as his word, keeping Felix too busy with work and school to pursue outside interests.

His days were spent fetching and carrying at  _Gabriel's_ , the common drudgery an insult to his intelligence. However, he was not permitted to forget his placement there was a punishment, not a reward, under Gabriel's watchful eye. So, Felix suffered the indignity, aware that it was well deserved, but quickly growing sick of the menial labour all the same.

After the first week in his new regime, Felix was exhausted. Every day, he had been up at four-thirty in the morning, to arrive at  _Gabriel's_  by five. For the next two and a half hours, he performed the mindless duties of a base level intern for anyone who asked, then he had to leave for school.

Public school was not as bad as he’d initially believed. However, the course material was basic compared to what he was used to, so Felix let his mind drift without worrying about his grades. He was also glad to be sitting down. More than once, he’d nearly fallen asleep, lulled by his own fatigue, and the teacher’s sonorous droning.

He had been placed in the same class as Adrien and his friends. They were a raucous bunch, without being malicious, who included him in conversations and extended invitations to socialise during lunch hours. Felix accepted under duress, aware of Adrien watching closely from nearby, ready to report back to Gabriel should Felix flout the conditions of his loose punishment.

Bridgette was also in his class; a pleasant, yet distracting surprise. She was an affable girl, who didn’t appear to hold a grudge against him for his family’s mistreatment of her. But she was quiet, remaining on the fringes of conversations, without contributing unless she was addressed specifically.

Felix appreciated Bridgette’s quiet demeanour. She didn’t feel the need to fill every silence with chatter, like many other girls their age, so her company was relaxing and refreshing. He found himself watching her during class, as his eyelids drooped, his mind floating into blankness. Her hair caught the light, reflecting it with a subtle blue undertone that drew his attention away from his surroundings. If he reached out, he could have touched it from his seat beside the hulking Ivan. But he didn’t know how she would react to being stroked like a cat, so he kept his hands to himself, lest she think him unsavoury.

 

* * *

 

By the time the final bell rang on Friday, Felix was ready to lay down and sleep the weekend away. His classmates streamed by him, eager to begin their weekend activities, but he was reminded that he still had a few more hours to complete at  _Gabriel's_  before he could relax.

Bridgette sidled up beside his desk as he was putting his books back in his bag, watching him with concern.

‘Are you ok?’ she asked. ‘Your first week at school must’ve been a big adjustment for you.’

Felix shook his head. ‘It’s not school, so much as Father’s punishment. It’s gruelling, being worked like a slave.’

‘I see.’ Bridgette was an intelligent girl, who didn’t require a reminder as to why he was being punished. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

He turned to face her, touched by her offer, and surprised by her generosity. ‘No, thank you. This is something I have to do on my own.’

Bridgette rubbed her arm and looked away. ‘Oh, ok.’

When she hesitated, Felix regarded her curiously. ‘Was there something you wanted?’

He hoped she would ask him to help with her schoolwork again. The last time he had assisted her, Felix found her to be astute and attentive, picking up on his explanations quickly. She also smelled nice, like flowers and cinnamon.

However, Bridgette blushed and shook her head. ‘No, nothing. I just wanted to make sure you were fitting in all right. I had a hard time settling in when I first got here, so,’ she trailed off, her gaze averted.

Felix slung his bag strap over one shoulder. Bridgette hefted her own bag, then accompanied him from the classroom.

‘I can’t imagine you having difficulties making friends,’ Felix said, as they walked down the stairs.

Bridgette cleared her throat. ‘Well, my cousin had vanished only months before my arrival, so some people thought it was weird. I guess they didn’t like being confronted with the reminder, and thought I was trying to replace her, or something.’

She was looking at her feet, and rubbing her arms as if to ward off a chill. Her uncertain behaviour wrenched his heart.

‘Listen,’ he told her, grasping her shoulders, ‘you are no one’s replacement. You are a complete, wanted, and welcome person in your own right. Understand?’

Bridgette’s eyes widened as they began to well. Before Felix could worry for making her cry, she flung herself at him, hugging him tight around the middle.

‘Thank you, Felix. You don’t know what it means to me to hear that.’

Felix stood, frozen for a moment, before awkwardly petting her head. Looking down, he saw the light reflected in her hair, and gave in to his urge to stroke it. Her hair was thick and silky, something he could easily spend hours running his fingers through.

An impatient beep from the street brought him abruptly back into reality. He took a step back, coughing into his fist as his cheeks warmed. Bridgette let him go with an apologetic grin.

‘Sorry to keep you.’ She ducked around him, but paused by the double doors to wave cheerily. ‘See you on Monday.’

He returned her wave, and then she was gone. Breathing a weary sigh, Felix exited the school, and slid into the back of his family’s car. Adrien was already inside, smiling widely, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Felix ignored his gleeful ribbing, and pulled out his phone to check the afternoon schedule. He wouldn’t finish at _Gabriel's_  until six o’clock that evening, as he would be expected to clean up after Adrien’s photoshoot, and be present while Gabriel accepted a delivery of fabrics. He sighed, resigning himself to a long afternoon.

 

* * *

 

He was the only passenger in the car on the way home after work, since Adrien had finished an hour earlier, right after the shoot had concluded. Felix rubbed his forehead, an exhaustion headache pounding just above his eyebrows.

Arriving back at Agreste manor, Felix let himself out of the car, and into the house. It was dim and quiet, without even the soulful notes of a piano drifting from Adrien’s room. Felix bit his lip as he stared at Adrien's bedroom door. They hadn’t had a chance to speak since Felix’s confession, and he wanted to apologise properly. Whether Adrien would accept it, or even listen, was still in question, but Felix needed to get the words out, regardless.  He had tried to do that only a few days ago, but after Adrien walked out on him, it had been difficult to find another opportunity to speak with him.

Pulling his shoulders back, Felix marched up the steps, and gave a perfunctory knock. He waited for two minutes, but was met only with silence from inside as well as out. He knocked again, insistently, but still there was no answer. Frowning, Felix tested the handle, raising his eyebrows when it gave way easily. He entered, with a careful look around, but Adrien was not in residence.

Worried, curious, and annoyed, Felix searched the rest of the house, but found no trace of his brother, as he’d expected. He rang Adrien's phone, but an automated recording informed him that the number was out of range. Felix wondered where he could have snuck off to, for him not to have any phone reception. He narrowed his eyes as he thought of the dangerous underground tunnels.

_Surely, he wouldn’t go back there_ , Felix mused.

He was certain Adrien was on another one of his mysterious “outings.” If that was the case, he would return in his own time, and before Gabriel could begin to worry. So, Felix took a seat on the foyer stairs and waited, watching the front doors intently.

An hour later, they inched open with a creak. Adrien stuck his head inside, glanced about furtively, and grinned when no one was in sight. Concealed by shadows, Felix watched as he darted inside, and closed the doors behind him, a limp duffel hanging from his shoulder.

‘Where have you been?’ he asked.

Adrien jumped and spun around, flattening his back against the doors. Felix stood up, revealing himself, to return Adrien’s glare with cool regard.

‘Out,’ huffed Adrien.

‘Out where?’

‘None of your business.’

Felix sighed. ‘If Father were to find out you’ve been sneaking off – ‘

‘He won’t,’ Adrien interrupted, ‘unless you snitch.’

‘I’m only trying to look out for you. What’s so secret that you can’t even tell me?’

‘Don’t act as if we were ever that close.’ Clutching his duffel, Adrien strode by Felix without sparing him a glance. ‘What I do is none of your concern. Butt out.’

Felix watched on as Adrien stalked to his room, slamming the door behind him. Troubled, Felix decided to keep a closer eye on his brother, despite his new schedule. 


	37. Sabine

The bakery was running just like how it used to. Tom was in the kitchen, Bridgette stocked shelves and cleaned, while Sabine worked the register. They had finally fallen into a routine, and it was good to feel normal and productive again.

Sabine had apologised to Bridgette for overreacting, and Bridgette had returned the sentiment for being presumptuous and insensitive. They had been a little awkward, but after the fiasco in the police station, their relationship had mended. Now, it felt like Bridgette had always been a part of her tiny family.

Sabine still thought of Marinette at times, particularly when she swept the kitchen floor, and brushed over the secret hatch under the worktable. But she shoved those thoughts and feelings aside, certain Marinette had passed away by now.

When she had first entertained the idea of letting Marinette die, she hadn’t known how hard it would be, and after some effort at decreasing the supplies she sent down, Sabine found it easier to stop altogether, rather than let Marinette waste away slowly. It was kinder on both of them, in the long run.

Initially, Tom had asked after the letters Marinette sent back. However, Sabine had stopped reading them before she cut Marinette off. It was too painful, reading about the decline in her daughter’s mental and physical state, so she threw them in the fire, unread. To Tom, she simply reiterated the usual things Marinette told them about in previous letters. He didn’t even question her.

Sabine suppressed the maudlin thoughts in favour of focussing on the present, and the living. Bridgette had a birthday coming up soon, and Sabine wanted to throw a party for her. She and Tom would make the cake, as was their tradition, and Bridgette could invite all her friends from school. Their house was small, but they could always host the event at the park, around a picnic table.

The idea had a certain charm, and if she were stealthy enough, Sabine could extend the invitations without Bridgette being any the wiser. It was a novel idea, and Bridgette had earned a reward after all her hard work.

Sabine nodded in satisfaction. She would make the suggestion to Tom later, and see what he thought.

Nadja Chamack entered the store, the bell jingling merrily as it was nudged aside.

‘Hello, Nadja. How have you been?’ Sabine greeted her, warmly.

‘I’m well, thank you. How are things here?’ Nadja looked around. ‘No little helper today?’

‘No, Bridgette left to spend time with her friends a short while ago. Something about a new game. Where’s Manon?’

Nadja shook her head with a rueful laugh. ‘With her father. Since he’s been home, she hasn’t let go of him once. Naturally, he can’t say no to her baby-doll eyes.’

Sabine joined in the indulgent chuckling. ‘He’s been away on service for a long time. No wonder she missed him. I assume you’re here to pick up a special treat for his return?’

‘You assume correctly. What do you suggest for a man who hasn’t had a decent sugary dessert in over six months?’

After Sabine described what they had to offer, Nadja purchased a fruity flan and departed. Sabine watched her go with a fond smile, glad her long-time friend had her husband back safe and well.

The day passed peacefully, with Bridgette returning home right on sunset.

‘Did you have a nice day, Sweetie?’ Sabine asked, as she wiped down the counter.

Bridgette locked the bakery door behind her, recognising the usual closing-down preparations. ‘Yeah, though I was sad Felix wasn’t able to join us.’

Sabine frowned. ‘I’m not sure I want you associating with a boy who nearly killed his own brother over money.’

Bridgette exhaled a weary sigh. ‘It wasn’t about the money, Aunt Sabine. Felix had his life’s work just taken away from him, so he went a little off the deep end. He panicked, but he’s very sorry, and Adrien’s forgiven him. He’s not a bad person, really.’

Sabine remained unconvinced. Unfortunately, she knew that trying to prevent Bridgette from seeing him would only push her into his arms. Her shoulders drooped in defeat.

‘Well, maybe you’ll be a good influence on him. But I want you to tell someone the moment he makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, ok?’

‘Yes, Aunt Sabine,’ Bridgette drawled. Then she smiled, kissed Sabine’s cheek, and went upstairs, calling out a greeting to Tom as she passed.

Bridgette was a good child – obedient, hardworking, and friendly. But she also had a stubborn streak, and could be argumentative at times. Faults and the occasional conflicts aside, Bridgette had become a surrogate daughter, easily sliding into the place Marinette had once occupied. It was nice to feel like a mother again, and she knew Tom doted on her, just like he used to with Marinette.

Sabine heaved a content sigh, then finished cleaning the shopfront. She met Tom at the base of the stairs, and they went up together, arms linked with matching strides.

Everything was just like how it used to be.


	38. Bridgette

Repeatedly bumping her forehead against her desk, Bridgette wondered why she kept falling back into a pattern of mourning Marinette’s loss, even after repeatedly telling herself she had moved on, just as everyone else seemed to be. It was a vicious cycle of grief, followed by a moment of clarity wherein she resolved to move on with her life, then suddenly, she would find herself plummeting back into mourning. It was frustrating, depressing, and unfair.

‘This time, for sure,’ she whispered.

Wiping her eyes, she sat up, sniffled, and turned on her computer. She had a test on Monday, and she hadn’t studied nearly as much as she ought.

Concentrating was difficult. Her mind kept drifting to other topics, like how Alya seemed happier lately, or how Sabine and Tom had behaved. There was a melancholy air about her aunt and uncle, but it was subtle, so most people wouldn’t notice. Bridgette assumed it was brought on by Alya’s memorial, the day bringing unpleasant memories and emotions to the surface for everyone.

Then there was Felix. He had settled into school life without mishap, and had even made some new acquaintances, despite himself. Felix remained aloof, often claiming he didn’t need their company, but always accompanied Adrien to lunch. He frowned, putting up a gruff façade, but Bridgette suspected he was secretly pleased.

Resting her chin on her hand, Bridgette smiled into her palm. Felix was a funny creature, full of contradictions and shy awkwardness. She found his idiosyncrasies endearing; if she looked beyond his manufactured, detached attitude, there was simply a boy who didn’t know how to be a boy. She wanted to help him, as he had helped her, but she wasn’t sure how, or if he would even appreciate the offer. Above all, Felix was proud, and any perceived weaknesses or criticisms were dealt with harshly.

Bridgette resented Gabriel Agreste for leaving such an indelible mark on his own son. His beliefs had denied his children a normal childhood, and had warped their thinking. Felix’s actions against Adrien was proof enough that they hadn’t learnt valuable life lessons, such as dealing with rejection, or how to express negative emotions healthily. Bridgette decided she would have to take Felix’s education in hand herself, since no one else seemed so inclined. She hoped she wouldn’t wound his pride, or be thought presumptuous.

Slapping her hands over her cheeks, Bridgette turned back to her homework. It was easier to concentrate, now that she had the beginnings of a course of action.

 

* * *

 

After waving goodbye to Tom and Sabine, Bridgette approached the school with a new bounce in her step. She smiled and wiggled her fingers at students she recognised, then perched atop the sandstone banister to await her friends’ arrival.

‘You’re in a good mood,’ Alya observed, as she stood to Bridgette's left.

Bridgette took a deep breath. ‘I feel better today. As if I have a sense of purpose.’

Alya cocked an eyebrow. ‘What would that purpose be?’

‘I’m going to show Felix that it’s ok not to be the perfect image his father expects him to be.’

Alya’s smile turned knowing. ‘Ah, so this is about Felix. I should have guessed.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing,’ Alya sang, teasingly.

The Agreste family car pulled up at that moment, Felix and Adrien stepping out gracefully. Bridgette envied their effortless fluidity of movement. She had all the grace of a drunken bear, according to her childhood dance instructor.

Alya elbowed her gently in the side as they approached, her eyebrows waggling suggestively. Bridgette nudged her back with an exasperated huff.

‘Morning, girls,’ Adrien began. ‘You ready for the test?’

‘Yup,’ chirped Alya.

‘As I’ll ever be.’ Bridgette looked between Adrien and Felix. ‘What about you two?’

‘In the bag,’ Adrien replied, easily.

Felix shrugged. ‘I don’t anticipate any difficulties.’

Bridgette admired their cool confidence, glad their antisocial upbringing hadn’t deprived them of a decent academic education, at least.

Nino joined them, slapping the other boys on the back, and giving Alya a peck on the cheek as he stood beside her. They endured Adrien’s good-natured teasing, then returned the favour two-fold, before the bell rang. The three of them fell into step beside each other, leaving Bridgette and Felix to bring up the rear.

‘You probably don’t need it, but good luck on the test anyway,’ Bridgette said as they walked.

Felix nodded, his cheeks turning a light pink. ‘Thank you. I’m confident you will perform admirably, but I wish you the best, as well.’

Inordinately pleased, Bridgette smiled brightly. ‘Thank you, Felix. I appreciate it.’

Felix nodded again, his face growing redder. ‘You’re welcome.’

The test wasn’t as hard as Bridgette feared, so she answered all the questions feeling reasonably confident she would score a decent grade. Her friends were similarly pleased, and congratulated each other loudly between classes.

At lunch, Nino suggested they go to the arcade to celebrate. Felix seemed reluctant to attend, hanging back, and declining to participate in the conversation as they all walked down the street together.

‘Are you feeling all right?’ Bridgette asked, resting a solicitous hand across his brow.

Instantly, Felix’s face turned bright red. ‘I'm fine,’ he stammered.

Bridgette withdrew her hand, frowning up at him in concern. ‘I realise arcades probably aren’t your thing, but you and I could go somewhere else, if you’d like.’

He regarded her seriously for a long moment. ‘You want to go, though, right?’

‘Well, yeah. But I can go any time I want.’

But Felix shook his head, and offered his arm. Feeling her face heat up, she accepted it, gingerly threading her arm though his.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked, looking up at him.

Felix’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. ‘You wish to go. It would be churlish of me to deny a lady her wants.’

Bridgette blinked as she processed that. Finally, she decided to let it go, in favour of focussing on her previous intentions.

‘Hey, Felix. I know you’re very intelligent, and you have your whole career mapped out, but you know it’s ok to fail sometimes, right?’

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. ‘Failure is not an option.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because Father expects me to excel in all areas. Anything less will not be tolerated.’

Bridgette’s heart went out to him. ‘That’s a lot to have to live up to. Doesn’t it get hard?’

‘It’s always been hard, but failing, and Father’s disappointment, is harder.’

‘Is it worth not having friends, or fun?’

‘I can’t afford the distraction. The only reason I attend school at all is because it was the punishment Adrien chose for me.’

Bridgette bit her lip, unaccountably hurt by the admission. ‘Would you prefer not to come to school anymore, go back to the way things were?’

Felix inhaled deeply, his hold on her arm tightening by a fraction. ‘I don’t know.’

Surprised, Bridgette could only stare at him. She wasn't sure what shocked her more, that he admitted to not knowing, or that he was unsure in the first place.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, then turned away to cough delicately into his free hand, his ears turning red.

‘There are some things worth coming to school for,’ he murmured.

Bridgette's chest constricted. She was sure she was on the precipice of discovering something significant, when Nino’s holler from the arcade’s open front door distracted her from her train of thought. She was pulled back into reality abruptly, the jolt feeling almost physical. She pouted at the lost chance, frustrated with the world.

Felix led her inside, then released her arm. Rather than let him stand awkwardly on the sidelines, Bridgette grasped his hand, and led him toward the games. She encouraged him to try many varieties of amusements, and was stunned when he excelled at the shooting and timing games. He wasn’t as successful at sport oriented or rhythm games, but he still tried, despite consecutive losses. Bridgette was proud of him, as he seemed undeterred by the setbacks, and kept going. He even looked like he was enjoying himself. She thought she may have misjudged his character, as she watched him pick up another basketball, and fail to make the shot. She was pleased to be proven wrong on this occasion.

They trekked back to school feeling calmer, their restless energy finally expelled. Bridgette, once more, had her arm looped about Felix’s, as they walked back in companionable silence.

‘Having fun isn’t so bad, is it?’ she asked, feeling coquettish.

Felix hummed in agreement. ‘I guess it depends on who you’re with.’

Bridgette's heart fluttered pleasantly. ‘So, you’ll be willing to try this again, some time?’

‘If there’s the right incentive.’

‘Which would be?’ she asked, leaving the sentence hanging.

Felix disentangled his arm, to raise her hand to his lips. His cheeks were pink, but he maintained steady eye contact.

Bridgette's heart sped up, and her breath caught. She smiled shyly as Felix lowered her hand, but did not release it. They returned to school, still hand in hand, their cheeks rosy, while exchanging bashful glances and small smiles.


	39. Adrien

Successfully sneaking out of the house yet again, Adrien sprinted around the corner, and away. He had grown stronger, but he hadn’t developed any significant muscle mass yet, which was both a relief and a curse.

He had promised to return to modelling, and while he was glad he wouldn’t have to suffer through a wardrobe adjustment, he was disheartened that he hadn’t yet managed to achieve a six pack, or bulging biceps. Instead, his body persisted in remaining taut and wiry, with a fine layer of padding over his belly. Adrien scowled, thinking of the extra sit ups he would have to do to achieve his goal.

No one had commented on his extra hours in the gym, or on his higher protein intake. It was just as well, as the last thing he needed was to think of a lie to justify himself.

His bag wasn’t as full as it had been in the past either. Now that Marinette had the larger items needed to camp in the tunnels indefinitely, all he needed to bring her on a regular basis was food. He brought her some fresh vegetables, oil, a variety of sauces, and a small portion of meat. He hadn’t yet worked out how she could store cold things for any length of time, so she had to eat things like meat right away.

Marinette didn’t seem to mind. She was a decent cook, and was always appreciative of his efforts. She was also generous, serving him a meal from her meagre supplies without a second thought. Adrien believed she was the most selfless, and kindest person he had ever met.

He slinked down into the tunnels, the route memorised after numerous trips. It was as dark and dank as ever, but with his phone light, he found his way easily.

Marinette was humming again, a sure sign she was in a better mood today. It was when she wasn’t humming, or singing softly along to her new playlist, that he had cause to worry. A quiet Marinette was a depressed Marinette, and it pained him to see her despondent and unhappy.

He approached the entrance to her tunnel, warm light spilling out of the archway.

‘Hello, Marinette? Are you there?’

It was a redundant question, but he had to announce his presence somehow. He disliked barging in on her uninvited. Her sanctuary was her room, her home. He knew he wouldn’t like people entering his house without permission.

‘Come in,’ she called, sounding preoccupied.

Curious, Adrien strode forward to see Marinette crouched before a wall, scribbling on it with a stick of coloured chalk. Moving to stand beside her, Adrien looked at what she was drawing. It was a dress for a semi-formal occasion, pink, with butterfly sleeves, and a flared, knee length skirt.

When she stepped back, Adrien bent over to examine it closely. Pretending a critical eye, he rubbed his chin and hummed thoughtfully, before springing upright.

‘Exquisite,’ he declared, loudly.

Marinette laughed. ‘It’s probably nothing compared to what you’ve seen.’

He turned to her with a sincere smile. ‘It’s just as good as anything produced at  _Gabriel's_. You have real talent, and it should be nurtured and cultivated. Don’t compare yourself to people three times your age, who don’t even have a jot of your creativity.’

‘This dress is hardly creative,’ she demurred.

‘What about that jacket over there?’ He pointed to a section of wall near the doorway he just came through.

The design was unlike anything he’d seen before, with a militaristic bent incorporating Chinese elements, and a few tasteful frills.

‘Ok, I might be a little bit proud of that one,’ she relented.

‘Good. You ought to be.’

He turned to his bag, dropping it by her crate table. He handed her the supplies to put away, though she tilted her lips at the meat, a rare treat.

‘I told you, I can’t keep this,’ she said.

‘It’s not a souvenir, you know. You’re supposed to eat it.’

Groaning at his poor humour, she retrieved her portable hotplate, a frying pan, and various other pieces of cooking paraphernalia. Before long, she and Adrien were sitting down to a simple meal of steak and vegetables.

Despite her size and disfigured hands, Marinette handled her cutlery and other utensils expertly. She didn’t drop anything, and managed the plate to mouth movements without difficulty.

Adrien had once commented it was strange to see a beetle eat meat, until she reminded him that ladybugs ate aphids. He had remained silent on the matter of her diet ever since.

He washed up in a tub he brought specifically for that purpose, while she put everything back in its place.

To keep her stocked with enough water, Adrien had rolled in a floor-standing water cooler bottle larger than his torso. He was grateful for the resilient plastic, as it rolled along the rough stone of an alternate route to Marinette's chamber, and almost out of sight in the dark tunnels. He winced when he realised it would need to be refilled before too long.

‘Thank you, Adrien. That was really nice.’

He smiled up at her. ‘My pleasure.’

‘How was your week?’ She crossed her arms on the floor, and rested her chin on them, a new position she found comfortable enough to sleep in, though her legs splayed out, almost comically, at all angles.

‘Fairly ordinary. Alya and Nino are still going strong.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Now, it’s looking like Bridgette and Felix are getting closer, too.’

‘You don’t say?’

There was something in her tone he didn’t understand. ‘Something wrong?’

Marinette turned her head, breaking eye contact. ‘No offence, but I’m not sure I want Bridgette dating someone who would leave his own brother to die in the tunnels.’

Adrien sighed. ‘Felix did apologise, and is remorseful. He’s taking his punishment without complaint as well. I think Bridgette is a good influence on him, too.’

Marinette didn’t look convinced. ‘He’s done such a thing once, what makes you so sure he won’t do something similar in the future? I hate to think what someone like that could do to Bridgette.’

Adrien bit his tongue, trying to keep his patience. They had been over this twice before, and he wasn’t sure why he had brought it up again. ‘Well, it’s not like either one of us can do anything about it. They’ll be an item, whether we want them to, or not.’

‘Wait, what possible objection could you have against Bridgette?’

‘I don’t, but I have doubts about the type of family who would abandon their own daughter down in the mines.’

A heavy silence descended. Adrien’s eyes bulged as he slapped his hands over his mouth, and Marinette sat up, frowning.

‘What do you mean “abandoned?”’

Adrien stammered for a moment. ‘Well, they hid you down here, all on your own. That’s all I meant.’

‘No, it isn’t.’

Her voice was hard with certainty, but covered a tremulous note, as if she were afraid to put the information together.

Adrien circled the old crate to sit in front of her. Placing his hands over hers, he gripped them lightly, still unsure if she could feel him.

‘Don’t worry about it, ok? Don’t think about it. Everything’s fine.’

Marinette nodded, her fingers curling around his, before releasing them. Slowly, she lifted her arms, wrapping them lightly around his shoulders in a loose embrace, as if she were afraid she would hurt him. He hugged her back, holding on as tight as he could, hoping she could, at least, feel that.

‘Don’t think about it,’ he whispered again, dreading the day when he would have to tell her the truth.


	40. Felix

Gabriel had Felix on a strict schedule, with every minute accounted for, and none to spare. It made watching out for Adrien difficult, as he was liable to sneaking off at inopportune moments, usually when Felix was stuck running errands at their father’s company.

Felix returned late, driven home by Gorilla, who still gave disapproving looks in the rear-view mirror, as if he couldn’t believe he was still forced to chauffeur Felix around. Gabriel himself would be taken home by Nathalie, some time later in the evening.

While stopped at a red light, Felix saw Adrien duck into a Metro station, the ever-present duffel slung over his back. He knew the moment Gorilla noticed his other charge, a surprised grunt emanating from the driver’s seat.

As Felix suspected, Adrien’s outings were not planned or given approval by his guardians.

As quickly as he’d appeared, Adrien was out of sight once more, Felix and Gorilla staring at the place where his head had disappeared from view.

‘Keep an eye on him from now on,’ Felix instructed. ‘Learn his pattern, and follow him. It’s time we found out what’s going on.’

Gorilla grunted in understanding, for once not questioning Felix’s direction.

 

* * *

 

While Felix was stuck in a conference room later that week, shadowing Gabriel, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Casting a furtive glance around the table, Felix slipped his phone out to check it. Gorilla had sent him an image of Adrien sneaking out of the house again, the duffel across his back once more.

Felix sent back a brief message.

_Follow him, but do not be seen_. _Keep me posted._

He then turned his attention back to the treasurer as he rambled on about corporate finances. Normally, Felix would be paying close attention, but his mind was elsewhere, speculating on what Adrien was doing when he crept out of the house. He was supposed to be preparing to get back into work, after Gabriel's less than subtle hints in that direction.

Only weeks ago, Felix would have assumed Adrien was running off to play with his friends, except that Adrien did not typically carry an over-burdened duffel to gad about with Nino. If he were meeting a girl, he would have put more effort into his appearance, and was not likely to have been so secretive or defensive when confronted. It was perplexing, and Felix was determined to get to the bottom of it.

His phone buzzed with a new message – a picture of Adrien heading into the same Metro he had entered the last time. Felix furrowed his brow. Adrien was following a predetermined route then, and one he knew well. Felix couldn’t think of anywhere he could go by train where Gorilla couldn’t drive him.

A video message showed him Adrien darting into the Metro tunnel, rather than waiting for a train on the platform. Curiosity thoroughly piqued, Felix raised his eyebrows, holding his phone up to his nose, disregarding the reproving stares of the board members. He couldn’t see any figures in the shadows beyond the mouth of the tunnel, and the audio was too low for him to make out individual sounds, much to his annoyance. He held the phone in his lap, meeting Gabriel's glare with an upraised brow, unconcerned by his father’s censure.

His phone buzzed once more. With bated breath, Felix played the second short video. The shot followed Adrien from a distance, his figure only made discernible by the glare cast from his own phone. Some way into the tunnel, Adrien sat down, and scooted forward until his legs disappeared into the wall. Then, the rest of his body slithered out of sight, consumed by the shadows.

Gorilla raced toward the spot, finally halting before a hole in the wall, one much too small for Gorilla to fit through. There was a grunt of frustration, and the video ended.

Felix sat back, brows furrowed in thought once more. He sent another short text to Gorilla instructing him to return to the manor, with congratulations on a job well done. It was up to Felix to find out what Adrien did next.

His thoughts churned with outlandish ideas of underground fighting clubs, secret rave venues, monster hunting, and a morbid fascination with the ossuary below ground. He dismissed the ideas as blatantly ridiculous, but it was not entirely out of character for Adrien to want to explore the underground tunnels, now that he knew where to access them. But it was unusual for him to willingly return to a place where he could have died.

Felix remained distracted for the remainder of the day. Fed up, Gabriel sent him home early, with orders to continue to study business management from the many journals in the library.

Felix obeyed, but hid behind the dining room doorjamb, waiting for Adrien to return, rather than sequestering himself in the library. Two and a half hours after Gorilla had sent him the first text, Adrien skulked through the front door, before furtively creeping up to his room. The duffel bag hung limp from his hand.

Felix squinted. Wherever Adrien was going, he departed with a full bag, but returned with an empty one. This led to the conclusion that Adrien was ferrying items into the tunnel, and leaving them there. In the few times Felix had caught Adrien returning, the duffel was always empty. He frowned at Adrien’s bedroom door. He needed a plan.

 

* * *

 

On Friday afternoon, one of Gabriel's designers sent Felix out to source new materials, and begin negotiations for regular deliveries. Felix thought this move was above the designer’s rank, but excused himself all the same. He saw an opportunity, and he was going to take it.

School had not long let out, so he was reasonably sure Adrien hadn’t run off on his mysterious errand yet. Still, he wasn’t going to take any chances. He ran to the Metro Adrien always utilised, arriving just in time to see Adrien descend the steps.

Following at a discreet distance, Felix slunk down after him, Adrien’s bright hair standing out like a beacon in the dim interior. Inside, there were surprisingly few people, all of whom were standing at the far end of the opposite platform, and looking away from his direction.

When he was sure no one was looking, Felix followed Adrien into the tunnel, crouching low to avoid detection.

When Adrien vanished into the hole low in the wall, Felix grimaced, then copied the movements, sliding forward, then down a surprisingly long way. He rolled his ankle upon landing, and fell to his hands and knees, biting his lip to keep from grunting too loud. With a pained wince, he got to his feet, then raced after the light bobbing around a corner.


	41. Adrien

‘Hello, Marinette. It’s Adrien.’

Marinette turned around, her lips tilting up in a tight smile. ‘Adrien. How are you?’

‘Can’t complain. You?’

Marinette raised her hands in a shrug. ‘Same old.’

Rubbing the back of his neck, Adrien’s gaze dropped to the floor. ‘Listen, about last time. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to offend you, or cause any upset.’

With a weary sigh, Marinette shook her head. ‘No, you don’t have anything to apologise for. What I said was uncalled for. If you say your brother has reformed, then I should just take your word for it. I'm sorry I offended you.’

Adrien gave her a hopeful smile. ‘So, we’re good?’

She nodded. ‘We’re good.’

Adrien heaved a sigh of relief. Guilt and worry had been gnawing at him since his disagreement with her, and even though they had partially mended their relationship at that time, it didn’t feel like complete forgiveness or closure. He felt much better for having cleared the air properly.

Marinette peered over his shoulder to examine the duffel. ‘What did you bring me today, my brave and noble knight?’

He grinned, pleased and excited. ‘A special treat for you, Princess.’

Rummaging through the bag, he extracted a family sized tub of chocolate ice cream. Marinette’s gasp of delight justified the purchase, her smile bright and eager.

‘Can we eat it now?’

With a flourish, he pulled out two spoons, the duffel sagging at his feet. Marinette clapped like an excited child, and sat down by the crate with polite impatience. Laughing, Adrien handed her a spoon, worked the lid off, and sat beside her, placing the tub on her makeshift table. He gestured for her to dig in first, which she did with alacrity, humming with pleasure when she put the heaped spoon in her mouth.

Adrien followed her example, closing his eyes as the ice cream melted on his tongue. It was so rare that he and Marinette could share moments like this, as if they were both simply ordinary teenagers just enjoying a mundane pleasure like food. He had brought her sweets before, as well as pastries, fresh fruit and honey, but he had never brought ice cream before. He promised to do it more often, if she would smile like that.

Adrien had come to treasure every last one of Marinette’s genuine smiles, and peals of laughter. She deserved some brightness after living alone in this miserable place for so long. In his opinion, she deserved so much more, but he knew she was unwilling to leave her underground sanctuary for fear of being shunned, or even hunted down, by regular people.

Adrien pitied her for her current circumstances, but that wasn’t why he kept coming back. He sincerely liked her company, and valued her friendship just as much as he did his other friends.

It hurt to keep her ongoing existence a secret from them, especially in the face of their continued misery, but it looked like they were getting over the loss with each other’s help. Alya and Nino continued to support one another, and now Bridgette had Felix to help distract her and help her to move forward. He hoped Marinette got something out of his companionship, as much as he did hers.

He often wondered what kind of person Marinette would have been if he had met her under normal circumstances. Nino had told him about her, and what she was like, but he wished he could have seen that girl for himself. He might have even seen her as more than a friend.

The thought made him blush. He shovelled another heaping spoonful of ice cream in his mouth in an attempt to cool his flushed cheeks, but all he succeeded in doing was give himself brain freeze. He clutched his head and groaned, glad at least, that he didn’t have sensitive teeth. Marinette just laughed.

‘That’ll teach you,’ she snickered.

‘Judas,’ he whimpered.

Between them, they finished the tub. Adrien sat back with a groan, feeling ill. Marinette licked her lips, then placed the empty tub into a purloined wheelie bin Adrien had rolled in for her. He preferred not to think about how he had managed to steal the wretched thing, then successfully navigated the alternate route with Marinette’s rough map, the same path he had to take when bringing her the large water cooler bottle.

Adrien flopped onto his back, moaning in discomfort, then pulled out his phone to check the time. ‘Damn.’

‘Do you have to go so soon?’

Adrien closed his eyes against her mournful tone. ‘I’ll be back soon, I promise.’

‘Ok,’ she sighed. ‘Since you promised.’

She helped him to his feet, then led the way back to the Metro tunnel.


	42. Felix

Felix watched in silent horror as Adrien sat down beside a freakish monstrosity, chatting like old friends. He almost gagged when they began to partake from the same tub of ice cream, the creature’s grotesque features a sick parody of human behaviour.

He had no idea how Adrien could stomach being in the same room as that thing, let alone eat from the same dish.

As quietly as he could, he backed away from the entrance, and stealthily crept back down the way he had come. He climbed up the rough stonework to the tunnel, then promptly emptied his stomach over the train tracks.

He spat repeatedly, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve, before staggering back to the platform. He avoided making eye contact with everyone he passed on the way home, and once there, he headed directly to his bathroom to brush his teeth, shower, and change clothes.

Astounded and disgusted, he sat in his computer chair, wondering what his next course of action should be. What he knew for certain was that Adrien could not be permitted to continue his acquaintance with that aberration.

His options were limited. If he told Gabriel, there was no telling what would happen. The creature would definitely be hunted down and killed, but Gabriel could pull them both out of school and shut them away for the rest of their natural lives. Felix couldn’t take that risk, now that he had reason to venture beyond the walls of his home.

Telling the authorities, magical or mundane, was also deemed unideal, as they would inevitably report back to Gabriel, ending in the same result as telling Gabriel directly.

Felix squinted, his index finger curled over his chin as he thought. This was something he needed to keep away from everyone’s attention, therefore it needed to be handled quietly and efficiently.

Felix picked up his phone.

 

* * *

 

Gorilla answered his summons grudgingly. He knocked on Felix’s bedroom door, then entered without waiting for permission, a surly expression on his face. Felix couldn’t blame him, but this was not the time to hold on to past indiscretions.

Felix indicated his desk chair. ‘Take a seat.’

Gorilla remained standing by the foot of the bed.

Felix gave him a flat look, then sighed. ‘As you will recall, I asked you to follow Adrien while he was sneaking about. Today, I followed him down that hole in the wall myself, and I think we have a serious problem.’

Gorilla remained unmoved, simply crossing his arms as he waited for Felix to get to the point.

With a shudder, he went on. ‘Adrien goes down there to meet some creature, one, I’ll bet, he mistakenly believes is a friend. This thing is a freak, a giant, hideous mutation, and it’s only a matter of time before it turns on him. What I want you to do, is sneak into that tunnel and widen that hole he enters through. Make it look as natural as you can, and once you’re confident you can fit, I want you to arm yourself, go down there, and eliminate that beast. Of course, I will accompany you. I wouldn’t ask you to do something so dangerous I would not be willing to do myself, and I need to see the monster’s body for myself. We will have to dispose of it before Adrien finds out, too. Are you with me?’

Gorilla stared at his shoes while he thought, then looked up to meet Felix’s eyes, nodding firmly.

‘Thank you. Take a pick axe and whatever else you need to widen that hole. Investigate for yourself if you need to. The way to the creature’s lair is straightforward, just down the left path. Let me know when you’re ready.’

Gorilla nodded again, then lumbered out of the room to gather the necessary equipment.

Felix resumed his seat in the desk chair, spinning slowly until he faced the monitors. He sat for a long moment, his mind unusually blank.

After some time, a perfunctory knock sounded on his bedroom door, before Nathalie stuck her head in.

‘Your father would like to have a word with you.’

Felix snapped out of his fugue, to roll his eyes. ‘I bet.’

He followed Nathalie obediently to Gabriel's office, then preceded her to the desk, Gabriel's displeased countenance staring back at him.

‘Would you care to explain where you were this afternoon?’ he asked in clipped tones.

‘I was running an errand for a designer. He wanted to see if I could source some new fabric for him.’

Gabriel's frown deepened. ‘You should know making such a change is the sole domain of the CEO. A mere designer has no such authority.’

‘Which is why I failed to secure a new supplier.’

Gabriel's brows shot up. ‘Are you telling me you deliberately failed a task out of spite?’

‘Not spite, Father, simply the knowledge that such a change was above the man’s paygrade.’

Gabriel leaned back, his scowl back in place, and his hands clasped upon the desk. ‘I almost believe you. However, tracking down a new supplier does not require one to leave the premises, and you were out of the office for hours. You didn’t even bother to come back, instead choosing to come home. Are you shirking your duties, or do you think yourself above any further punishment?’

‘Neither, Father,’ Felix replied, blandly.

‘Yet, you decided to give yourself an early mark. Why is that?’

Felix’s usually quick wits abandoned him, leaving him standing before his father’s desk, looking like a fool.

‘I was,’ he paused, groping for a reasonable excuse. ‘I wanted to check up on an idea I had.’

Gabriel raised a questioning brow.

‘I’ve heard that the acquisitions officer has not been conducting thorough research on the best places to purchase goods from. I simply wanted to bring in some of my own findings and present them to him, so he could make an informed choice the next time he needs to purchase stationery.’

Still, Gabriel didn’t look convinced. ‘I will let it slide this time, on the off chance you are telling the truth.  But come the next financial report, there better be a noticeable improvement in our outgoing expenses.’

‘Of course, Father.’

Gabriel waved his hand, dismissing Felix from his presence. Felix curled his nose as he turned away, tired of his father’s autocratic behaviour.

He returned to his room, looking up stationery suppliers to compare their fees and delivery schedules. By dinnertime, he had cobbled together a compendium of stationery retailers to give to the purchasing officer the following day. He didn’t tell anyone he had no idea who their current supplier actually was.

The following morning, Gorilla sent him a picture of the hole in the Metro tunnel wall. He had already widened it enough for an average sized man to fit through.

Felix smiled. He would have the beast dealt with soon enough.


	43. Adrien

Sunday afternoon, Adrien snuck off again to visit Marinette. He had found himself missing her during their time apart, and was always anxious to get back to her. He told himself it was to make sure she was doing all right, and that she wasn’t sinking into a depressive state again. She had bouts of melancholy, and no matter what he tried, only time could help her out of her emotional turmoil.

He hated his helplessness when she felt like that. If her depression were a physical thing, he would have challenged it to a fight, and beaten it into submission. Unfortunately, all he could do was hold her when she sobbed, her frame shuddering, all without tears.

Adrien pushed the thought down, hoping she would be in one of her better moods. She had been improving in recent days, some of the rumoured sass peeking through her otherwise reserved mannerisms.

He adored her spunk. When she was really on a roll, she didn’t hold back, teasing him mercilessly, and sometimes even making jokes at herself when she did something silly. Her humour was one of her best qualities, and he loved that he could laugh freely and easily in her presence. In turn, she seemed to bring out the best in him. She made him want to be a better person, and try to help those around him as best he could. If he got to improve her day, even a little bit, he considered it an unequivocal triumph.

‘Hi, Marinette,’ he called as he approached her chamber.

‘I’m here,’ she sang back.

Adrien grinned. Today was one of her better days. He strode in, dropped the duffel filled mostly with blocks of chocolate, and launched himself at her, wrapping his arms about her torso tightly.

‘I’ve got you,’ he declared, trying not to laugh.

Marinette turned around in a full circle. ‘Oh no, whatever shall I do? There is a ravenous beast attached to my midsection.’

She brushed ineffectually at his back, snickers slipping past her lips, as she continued to spin around.

Adrien leaned his forehead against her plating, hiding his blush. Her strokes against his back and head felt more like caresses than an attempt to dislodge him, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with the warm fluttering in his chest. So, he kept his head down, eventually pretending to lose his grip and fall with exaggerated flair, to land on his back, with an arm landing over his eyes.

‘Adrien,’ shrieked a different voice, high with alarm. ‘Get away from there.’

He flinched violently, as did Marinette, both of them turning to see two figures standing in her chamber doorway.

‘Felix? Gorilla?’ He looked between them in confusion. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Get up, and get over here, right now,’ commanded Felix, as he watched Marinette warily.

Marinette was backing up to the other exit, her arms curled protectively against her chest, her mouth slack with fear.

Adrien held his hands up. ‘It’s ok, she’s a friend.’

‘Don’t be naïve. Now come here, out of the way.’

Adrien frowned, confused for a moment, until Gorilla stepped forward, holding a large firearm. Adrien felt the blood rush from his face. He remained where he was, mutely shaking his head, as Marinette edged toward the rear tunnel. Gorilla raised the gun, steadily pointing it at Marinette, his face set.

‘No,’ he screamed, as Gorilla pulled the trigger.

The noise was deafening in the cramped chamber, and Adrien ducked reflexively, clapping his hands over his ears. The shot struck the wall by Marinette’s head, the bullet embedded in the stone. With a panicked cry, she turned and fled, Gorilla shoving Adrien aside in pursuit.

‘No,’ Adrien shouted after them. ‘Leave her alone, she hasn’t done anything wrong.’

When he moved to chase them, Felix grabbed his shoulder.

‘What do you think you’re doing, fraternising with a monster? Do you know what Father would do if he found out?’

Adrien roughly jerked his arm free. ‘Probably the same thing you’re doing, but I imagine she has a very different idea of who the monster is right now.’

Without waiting for a response, Adrien turned and raced after the others, his heart surging up into his throat when another shot rang out, immediately followed by an agonised scream.

He pushed himself to run faster, following the sounds of a struggle. When it was too dark to see, he yanked his phone from his pocket, and used the torch to follow the tracks of their flight, soon accompanied by drops of blood.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, coupled with fear for his dearest friend. Eventually, the tracks split up, the large boot prints going left, and the scuttling, bloody tracks heading right. Terrified of what he would find, Adrien followed the latter, chewing his lip in dreadful anticipation.

He found himself at a familiar intersection, near the grate in the Metro tunnel. Turning, he followed the path he had come to know, eventually entering Marinette's chamber once more. Felix and Gorilla were both gone, but Marinette sat on her camping mat, slouched over, breathing rapidly through the pain. Her hands were clamped over her side, a trickle of blood glinting in the light.

Adrien approached her slowly. ‘Marinette?’

She looked up at him, her mouth open as she panted, but she dredged up a weak smile.

‘I’m ok. Just a nick.’

Adrien nodded, barely reassured, then fetched a bottle of water from her shelf.

‘Let me see,’ he instructed, gently tugging her hands away from the wound.

She let go reluctantly, whimpering faintly. Adrien gasped. The bullet had penetrated her armour, to lodge deeply inside.

‘I don’t know how to help,’ he whispered, in distress.

He didn’t know if, beneath her shell, Marinette had the anatomy of a human, or the soft interior of an actual insect. Nor did he know if the bullet had struck something vital. The blood wasn’t pouring out in gouts, nor was her breathing wet or gargled, but he didn’t take these indicators for granted. A bullet in the shoulder could be fatal for a grown man, so he didn’t want to think about what could happen to a girl with a bullet in her side.

Marinette gripped his hand with both of hers as her legs gave out. She slumped heavily against the wall, her rear legs trapped beneath her, her front legs splaying out at unnatural angles.

‘It hurts,’ she whimpered.

Adrien poured water over the wound with his free hand, but threw the bottle across the room when she wailed.

Desperately, he shushed her as soothingly as he could. ‘You need to be as quiet as you can, all right? Just lay down and be still. I’m sure you’ll heal up in no time.’

Marinette bit her lip and nodded, though her breathing was still ragged.

Distantly, Adrien could hear Felix and Gorilla trying to navigate the tunnels. Their voices echoed back, undaunted by the labyrinthine layout.

Adrien turned back to Marinette. She slid sideways down the wall, until she lay prone on the ground, her chin quivering.

Adrien held her hand right tight, bringing it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the knuckles. Her other hand fell limply to the floor.

‘Everything’s going to be ok. Just hang in there.’

But she was shaking her head. ‘I don’t think I’m going to make it.’

‘No, you can’t think like that. You have to – ‘

He was cut of by her choked cough, blood tainted froth gathering at the corner of Marinette’s mouth.

Aghast, he gripped her hand tighter. ‘No. Hold on, Marinette. No, come on, stay with me. Please, stay with me. Please.’

She looked up at him, her inhuman features unreadable, but her chin still trembled. ‘I'm scared. Don’t leave me alone.’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he assured her. ‘I'm right here. I’ll always be right here.’

She smiled again, then she stilled.

Adrien stared at her, comprehension dawning slowly, as her grip turned slack in his hand.

‘No no no no no no no no no. Come on, wake up. Wake up.’

When she didn’t respond, great tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks unchecked. He exhaled a shuddering breath, and stroked her forehead with his free hand.

‘Adrien, get away from that thing.’

Cold fury blazed in Adrien’s chest. Placing Marinette's hand gently on the ground, he got to his feet to glare at his brother and bodyguard.

‘She is not a thing. Her name is Marinette, and you killed her.’

Felix shook his head in the condescending manner of those who think they know best. ‘Adrien, this is not a person.’

‘Yes, she is,’ Adrien roared, cutting him off. ‘Her name is Marinette, and she is Bridgette's cousin.’

Felix drew in a sharp breath. ‘What?’

Adrien sneered as vindictive pleasure swelled within him. ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom Dupain, and Sabine Cheng. She was cursed by a madman resentful of her mother’s life here, and she was Bridgette’s cousin. How do you think she’ll take it, when she finds out you killed her dear cousin?’

Felix swallowed, his face ashen. ‘No, you're lying.’

‘I don’t lie, Felix. Now get out. You aren’t welcome here.’

‘I’m not leaving you here alone.’

‘I said leave,’ he screamed, feral rage and unimaginable grief turning his voice into a roar.

Gorilla took Felix by the shoulder and steered him from the room. Felix said nothing more, something for which Adrien was grateful.

He picked up Marinette's hand once more, stroking her fingers with trembling hands. Then he leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips. He could have sworn he felt her own breath on his skin, so he leaned back to watch her closely. To his dismay, she remained inert.

He lay her hand back down to stand up, turning his back on her with his eyes closed. It hurt to see her like that. He took a deep, steadying breath.

Sudden light flared, visible even through his eyelids. Shielding his eyes, he turned around to see Marinette’s body engulfed by painfully bright, pink light. Sparkles fell away from her prone form, which seemed to shrink within the ball of light. Then, the brightness dimmed, leaving only the pale, naked body of a slender, human girl, curled up on the old mat.

Adrien jumped back when she gasped, her eyes opening wide as she tried to draw in air. Immediately, Adrien stripped off his over shirt, covering her fair skin as best as he could, while she tried to sit up. She slid her arms down the sleeves, drew the lapels shut, then stared at her hands in wonder.

Marinette looked up at Adrien, her eyes big and blue. She blinked.

Adrien felt more tears sting his eyes, but ignored them as they flowed, pulling Marinette into a tight embrace. He tried to remember to breathe as he laughed, still holding her close, and running his fingers through her dark shoulder-length hair.

‘What happened?’ she whispered into his shoulder.

‘I don’t know. I don’t care. You're alive, and you're human.’ He drew back, holding her by the shoulders to grin widely at her. ‘You're alive.’

Marinette’s own grin spread across her face. She looked at her hands again, turning them over, closing her fingers, before she patted herself down, examining the rest of her figure.

Adrien cleared his throat and turned away before he saw something he shouldn’t.

‘Your injury,’ he began, suddenly remembering.

Marinette let out a tiny gasp. ‘It’s just a little scar now.’

Slowly, he turned back around. Marinette had fastened his shirt, and was struggling to her feet. He lent her a steadying hand, until she was upright.

‘I almost forgot what it was like to only have two legs,’ she said, with a disbelieving chuckle.

Overcome with emotion, Adrien pulled her in for another hug. She wrapped her arms around him, clutching the back of his shirt, as she buried her nose in his shoulder.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t know what you did, but thank you.’

‘I don’t know what I did,’ he replied, emphatically, ‘but I can’t argue with results.’

He let her go, but still kept a hold of her hands. He gazed down the length of her, relieved to note his shirt covered her to mid-thigh, before he met her eyes once more.

‘Hey, I can finally tell you something I’ve been wanting to say to you ever since we met, and have you believe me,’ he told her.

Marinette tilted her head and blinked. ‘What’s that?’

Adrien’s smile turned soft. ‘You’re beautiful.’

A blush spread from her collarbones, and ran all the way up to her hairline. She squeaked and turned away, but couldn’t go far with Adrien still holding her hands.

‘Shall we re-join the world above, Milady?’

Her smile was unsteady, but her eyes were resolute. ‘Let’s go, my knight.’


	44. Adrien

Marinette's feet were too soft to withstand walking on the rough stone, so Adrien carried her to the open grate, then set her down, and climbed out so he could help her up from above. Then, he carried her to the station platform, where they were met by Felix and Gorilla.

Marinette hid behind him as they approached, peering nervously over his shoulder.

Felix looked like he had aged ten years. ‘Adrien, what is this?’ he asked without preamble, gesturing with a limp hand at Marinette.

Adrien’s face hardened. ‘This is Marinette, and you both owe her an apology.’

Felix’s eyes widened, and Gorilla’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

‘But I thought,’ Felix stammered, looking between them helplessly.

‘We don’t know what happened, but the curse broke. Now apologise, both of you.’

Felix swallowed, before straightening up to address Marinette directly.

‘I am deeply sorry for the pain and suffering I have caused you. I should have checked, discerned for myself why you looked the way you did, and if I had thought to run a thorough check, all of this could have been avoided. I regret my course of action most acutely. It was brutish, cruel, and unfounded. I apologise, mademoiselle Marinette.’

A rumble bubbled up Gorilla’s body, culminating in a gruff ‘sorry, Miss.’

Adrien raised his eyebrows, unimpressed by the use of actual words. Gorilla turned away, appropriately shame faced.

Marinette nodded an acknowledgement, but didn’t speak. She was shifting uncomfortably behind him, and it was then Adrien noticed the commuters staring at them.

‘Let’s get you home,’ he murmured, shielding her from view with his body.

They exited the Metro, leaving Felix and Gorilla behind.

They both blinked in the sunlight, Marinette covering her sensitive eyes with her arm. After spending so long in the dark, Adrien theorised natural light was now too bright for comfort, so he guided her across the road, back toward the bakery. In the shade of the building, Marinette lowered her arm, to look up at the façade with trepidation. Then, she led him around to the far side of the building, and inside through a rear door. She sighed when they were in the cool interior.

‘Are you ok?’ he asked. ‘Did the light hurt your eyes?’

She hummed an affirmative, then cast a worried look toward the door to the bakery. ‘I'm just not sure what to say to them.’

Adrien swallowed the bile rising up his throat. ‘Go on up to your apartment. I’ll tell your folks to meet you there.’

Pale and sweaty, Marinette nodded. She let go of him to grab the banister, quickly relearning how to manage stairs with only two legs.

Once she was near the top, Adrien turned toward the bakery door, his towering fury returning.

He shoved his way through, marched to the shop door, and flipped the deadbolts.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Sabine demanded from the front counter, her voice shrill with outrage.

Slowly, Adrien turned to face her. Tom and Bridgette stuck their heads out of the kitchen, staring at him in wary confusion.

‘Upstairs, all of you. Now.’

‘Listen here, young man,’ Tom began, striding toward him purposefully.

Adrien set his shoulders back, facing Tom down. ‘I know what you did. It’s past time you explained why you left your daughter to die.’

Bridgette gasped, her hands covering her mouth, as she looked at Sabine. ‘What’s he talking about?’

Sabine returned his glare. ‘Let’s take this upstairs.’

Tom led the way, Sabine followed, then Adrien indicated Bridgette precede him. She scurried in front of him, desperate for the security provided by family, but caught by Adrien’s accusation, stayed her hand even as it reached for Sabine’s blouse.

They entered the apartment, but Tom stopped just beyond the threshold, preventing the others from entering, and blocking their view. Adrien cleared his throat obnoxiously, while Sabine prodded him gently in the back. Tom stepped forward automatically, his eyes still locked on something near the kitchen counter.

Adrien nimbly hopped over the back of the couch impatiently, then moved to stand beside Marinette. She was staring back at Tom, her eyes wide and wet. Then Sabine manoeuvred around her husband, before stopping and standing, still as any statue, as her eyes met Marinette’s.

Bridgette followed Adrien’s example, stumbling as she landed, her foot snagging on a cushion. When she looked up, she screamed, before throwing herself at Marinette and enveloping her in a tight embrace.

‘I knew you would come back,’ she cried, tears running down her cheeks. ‘I knew we shouldn’t give up.’

Marinette returned the hug, but her movements were stilted, as if she didn’t know how to process this turn of events. Adrien supposed she didn’t.

Bridgette turned back to Tom and Sabine, a jubilant smile lighting up her face.

‘Look, Marinette’s come home. Isn’t this great?’ Slowly, her smile slipped. ‘Aunt Sabine, Uncle Tom, why aren’t you excited?’

‘Isn’t that the answer we’re all just dying to hear?’ Adrien added, emphatically.

Sabine cleared her throat. As she told everyone the whole, sordid tale, Bridgette’s expression morphed into one of abject horror. She let go of Marinette to stare at her elders with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

Marinette looked like she was ready to collapse when Sabine revealed her plans to let her daughter slowly starve to death, so Adrien placed a steadying hand on her arm. She held on to him with a white knuckled grip, as she regarded her parents as if she had no idea who they were.

‘Honey, please say something,’ Sabine begged after she had finished. She watched Marinette imploringly, her hands outstretched. ‘We were only doing what we thought was right. We didn’t want you to suffer anymore.’

Marinette's eyes hardened. ‘You abandoned me. You left me to die, then you turned around and replaced me.’

‘No, Sweetheart,’ Tom tried. ‘We could never replace you.’

‘Then how do you explain this?’ Marinette pointed at Bridgette with a shaking finger. ‘I know you redecorated my room, and enrolled her in my class. You gave her my life.’

‘No,’ Bridgette objected. ‘I only came to help out. We decided together to enrol me in school so I wouldn’t fail. I’d already been here for weeks by that point.’

Marinette’s face closed down. ‘So, it was only a matter of weeks for you to find a suitable replacement. Well, I know where I stand here.’

‘It’s not like that at all,’ Sabine told her, strenuously. ‘Of course, we want you to come home. We still have your clothes, packed safely away for you.’

‘I think,’ Adrien cut in, ‘that Marinette just needs some time to come to terms with this. Fetch her things. We’re leaving.’

It was galling, having to present even a modicum of civility to her parents. But they agreed, and Tom retrieved her clothes from where he had stored them.

‘Where will you go?’ Sabine asked, as Adrien hefted one of the large boxes Tom deposited by the door.

‘We’ll let you know.’ He waited while Marinette dug out undergarments, shoes, and a pair of pants, then ducked into the bathroom to properly clothe herself.

When she returned, she picked up the other box, and followed Adrien outside. Her family remained in the apartment, sobbing, Bridgette’s accusing wails fading into silence as they emerged on the street.

‘You can stay with me for now, if you want.’ Adrien felt it was only right to offer. ‘I’m sure we can send Felix to military school in America, or something.’

Marinette didn’t even give him the ghost of a smile. She simply nodded once, then waited for him to take the lead.

They walked though his front door, to be met with Gabriel's cool regard.

‘What’s going on?’

Adrien matched his stare, unflinching. ‘This is Marinette. She’s going to stay with us for a while.’

‘I don’t recall giving you my approval.’

‘I’m not asking for it.’

Adrien marched past him, Marinette following like a lost shadow. He showed her to a guest room, pointing out the en suite and closets, then left her to settle in. He didn’t want to leave her alone, but thought she would appreciate the space, if only so she could come to terms with her mother's revelation in peace.

He would have waited for her in his own room, but Gabriel sent Nathalie with a summons. As he headed to his father’s office, he met Felix in the foyer, Gorilla close behind.

‘You two may as well join me.’ Adrien barely spared them another glance as he led the way into Gabriel's office.

He slumped into a guest chair, waiting for Gabriel to begin with an almost petulant air. Felix stood awkwardly behind the other chair, with Gorilla at his shoulder.

‘I did not give you permission to invite a guest for an extended stay, Adrien,’ Gabriel said.

Felix’s head whipped around to stare at him, his mouth agape. Gorilla gulped, taking a step back, as if preparing to flee.

‘Unfortunately, Father, we owe it to her,’ Adrien replied, with a meaningful look at Felix.

Gabriel turned to Felix, one brow raised.

Felix cleared his throat. ‘In my defence, she wasn’t human at the time.’

Gabriel's other brow rose to meet its brother by his hairline. ‘Explain.’

So, he did, revealing Adrien’s repeated trips beyond estate grounds, and whom he was meeting. He then justified the attempted murder by describing Marinette's cursed form. That was when Adrien took over the narrative, explaining Marinette’s predicament and her familial betrayal.

‘So, rather than let her stay with them, I offered her a place here, until she could think of an alternative, or we make arrangements for her.’ He concluded his recitation by folding his arms, and releasing a weary sigh.

Gabriel sat back, struggling to absorb the details. After a long moment of internal deliberation, he cleared his throat. ‘Very well, she may stay, if she is comfortable being in the same house as the men who tried to kill her.’

‘I’ll let her know,’ Adrien replied, suppressing a relieved sigh.

As Gabriel turned to Felix and Gorilla, outlining how they were to behave from now on, Adrien took his leave. It was too soon to check on Marinette, and he had no idea how to inform his friends of this turn of events, so he headed back outside to fetch the foodstuffs and equipment they lad left behind in Marinette's former chamber.


	45. Adrien

Marinette spent a quiet week acclimatising to her new residence. But the following Monday, she was ready to announce her presence to her friends, much to Adrien’s consternation.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked again, as he accompanied her outside.

‘Yes,’ she stressed.

He could tell her patience was wearing thin, but he couldn’t help worrying.

Bridgette had not said anything of Marinette's return, instead going home to her own family without saying goodbye to anyone. Most of their classmates were stunned, but as Caline reminded them, Bridgette's time with them was never meant to be permanent. Most of them accepted this explanation, but Alya seemed hurt that Bridgette had not said anything, and Felix was bereft. He kept turning to an empty place, his hand half extended, before realising that Bridgette was no longer there. His hand would drop, and his face would shut down, as if he were sliding back into bad habits now that she was no longer there to temper him.

That day, Adrien walked to school with Marinette, holding an umbrella up between them to ward off the fitful spits the clouds half-heartedly dropped on them.

Marinette was withdrawn, her hands clenched around the handle of her schoolbag in a white knuckled grip, twisting nervously. Neither of them knew what to expect, but Adrien was cautiously hopeful.

They arrived late, the bell ringing as they crossed the final road. Marinette spared a glance at her former home, then closed her eyes as she turned her back on it. Adrien noted that the bakery was closed, before he turned to follow Marinette inside.

They ascended the stairs slowly, Marinette pausing half way up to take a deep breath.

‘You can do it,’ he murmured in her ear, giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

She nodded, then continued climbing. They paused once more, just outside the classroom door. They could hear their classmates, chattering noisily as they waited for Caline to begin the lesson. Adrien turned to Marinette, taking in her pale face with concern.

‘You don’t have to do this today.’

‘I do, or I’ll never be brave enough. Ok, let’s go.’

He watched as she pulled her shoulders back, and straightened her spine, then he pushed the door open.

Only a few turned to look as he entered, Nino raising a hand in welcome. But Adrien didn’t take his seat, instead turning to watch the door expectantly. The rest of the students quieted, one by one, as they turned to see what he was waiting for.

Marinette stepped inside, raising her hand in a shy wave. ‘Hello, everyone. I’m back.’

Pandemonium erupted. The girls all screamed in various degrees of shock, Kim pointed at her, yelling a string of profanities, Nathaniel stood on his desk to point as well, demanding explanations, while the rest just stared. Caline looked close to fainting.

Marinette waited out the initial shock with patient understanding, then Alya hurdled the desks to launch herself at Marinette, crying openly, and wailing long, unintelligible sentences. 

Eventually, they quieted, then Alya stood back to hold her at arm’s length.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ she demanded, though her eyes were still watery.

Marinette gave them the abridged version, leaving out the part where her parents had forsaken her, and how Felix tried to have her shot.

Her audience was suitably outraged on her behalf, then they all gathered around her for a massive group hug. Adrien hung back, letting them have their moment. Finally, Alya backed away, letting Alix take her place, to approach Adrien.

‘You knew where she was and you didn’t even tell me?’ she asked with mock severity, punching him in the arm.

He rubbed the spot with a pout. ‘She asked me not to.’

‘You’re just lucky I’m too relieved to have my girl back to really be mad at you.’

She dived back into the huddled mass, just as Nino extracted himself. He stood next to Adrien, slinging a companionable arm over his shoulders.

‘She says that, but she doesn’t mean it.’ He looked fondly at the mass of bodies, Alya’s bright head bobbing around near the middle. ‘Thanks, man.’

Adrien turned to him, surprised. ‘For what?’

‘For looking after our girl when none of us could. Good job, dude.’

Adrien flushed at the praise. ‘Thanks, Nino.’

Students continued to swarm around Marinette all morning. By lunch time, she was looking tired and overwhelmed, so Adrien suggested a quiet lunch at home.

Alya and Nino overheard.

‘Hey, mind if we come?’ Alya asked, springing up behind Marinette.

Adrien looked to Marinette for guidance, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. He led the way back to his place, Alya and Nino expressing their confusion and pointing out the bakery was in the other direction. Once again, Adrien deferred to Marinette.

‘They’ll have to find out sooner or later,’ she reasoned.

With a nod, he herded their friends in the right direction promising explanations once they were inside.

They did not take the revelation well, promising swift and brutal retribution, until Marinette stayed their hands.

‘I don’t want revenge,’ she told them. ‘I mean, I get it. I had no quality of life down there, and I was so miserable. If Adrien hadn’t come along, I probably would have welcomed death.’

‘But?’ Alya prompted, after Marinette had paused for too long.

‘But it still hurts, I won’t deny that. I can’t even bring myself to look at them, knowing what they tried to do. So, I'm taking some time away from them. Monsieur Agreste has kindly allowed me to stay here, until I can go home, or find other arrangements.’

‘You can move in with me,’ Alya offered.

‘Your house is full as it is,’ Nino scoffed. ‘She can come stay with me. Consider it an open invitation, Mar.’

She smiled tenderly at them both. ‘Thank you, that’s very generous of you.’

 

* * *

 

Felix remained in his room most of the time when he was home. At first, Adrien thought he was avoiding Marinette, until one day, he came downstairs with his bags packed.

‘What’s going on?’ Adrien asked, as he stood in the dining room doorway. Marinette peered over his shoulder, still not entirely comfortable in Felix’s presence, though she hid it well.

Felix set his bags down. ‘I’m moving out. I want to be closer to Bridgette, so I’ve asked Father to refurbish the house in Nice. I’ll be living there from now on.’

Marinette and Adrien stared at him, their mouths hanging open.

‘Father allowed this?’ Adrien asked.

‘Yes, but only on the proviso that Gorilla accompany me as my guardian and chaperone. If you will excuse me, I need to get my things in the car.’

Marinette turned to Adrien, still in shock. ‘Are Bridgette and Felix still in contact?’

He shrugged. ‘I have no idea. If they’re not, Bridgette’s in for a hell of a shock.’

After that, Felix departed without fanfare, leaving Adrien to pass on his goodbyes and well wishes to their classmates.

A week later, they received a letter, stating that Felix had arrived safely and was settling in without incident. Enclosed was a photo of him and Bridgette, looking cosy on a picnic blanket. Regular updates informed them when the pair became romantically linked.

He and Marinette were genuinely pleased for them both, and sent a return letter, offering their congratulations.

 

* * *

 

School calmed down in that time, and life began to take on the beginning sheen of normality. The fragile peace was disrupted by the advent of Lila, who attempted to ingratiate herself with Adrien, at the expense of his existing circle of friends. Marinette in particular was overset by the new girl’s aggressive flirting style, and refused to spend time with her outside of the classroom.

In a move that surprised everyone, it was Chloe who gave Lila a public dressing down, denouncing her for attempting to prevent a budding romance. Adrien and Marinette both blushed profusely at that, but it did not stop Lila from trying to convince him she was the better option, or from tormenting Marinette.

Adrien did not approve of Lila’s tactics, and was offended on Marinette’s behalf when she flirted with him. He rebuffed her advances, gently at first, then with more force when she refused to give in. Eventually, she conceded defeat, albeit with poor grace.

She became a sullen presence in the back of their classroom, but nothing more came of it.

 

* * *

 

Marinette confided to Adrien late one night that she felt bad for staying at his place without contributing to the household. He advised her to put together a portfolio to present to Gabriel, and see if he would let her take on as an intern within his company.

Marinette got to work the following morning, and Adrien was pleased to see she had included her sketches from her chamber walls, tidied up and presented in a neat, near professional, art book.

Gabriel humoured her by agreeing to critique her designs, but Adrien knew the moment when he went from indulging an adolescent girl, to examining the real potential therein. His eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips, and the crease between his brows eased. It was a strange expression, to be sure, but one that boded well for Marinette.

The following week, he set her up to study the business under his favourite designer’s watchful eye. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon, she was to head to  _Gabriel's_ , and report in with her new supervisor, and learn everything he had to offer, including submitting her own designs for critique and advice on how to improve.

After that, Marinette thrived.

Adrien felt a thrill of pride every time she boasted about her successes in the workplace. He was sure she would be promoted to head designer within the next decade.

Despite achieving her lifelong dream, Marinette still made time for her friends. She arranged to spend every second weekend at Alya’s place, giving Gabriel some peace, Adrien time to miss her, and Alya the chance to reaffirm their friendship.

Alya had been profoundly remorseful for giving up on ever finding her, despite Marinette’s constant assurances that she didn’t bear any grudges. So, their sleepovers had been born, an event that pleased both girls immensely. 

 

* * *

 

Marinette eventually re-established contact with her parents, though it was strained. She wasn't quite able to forgive them, even if she did understand their reasoning, and they were too afraid to push her in any direction in case they drove her away entirely.

A letter from Bridgette and Felix had revealed that Tom’s and Sabine’s actions had been exposed, Bridgette outing them to her parents and grandfather after she had some time to process all she had learned. Bridgette’s family were no longer talking to Tom and Sabine, and Bridgette predicted the rift would never be healed.

Added to that was yet more heartfelt apologies, but Marinette wrote her back, stating that none of the blame lay with Bridgette. She was a victim of circumstance, just as Marinette had been.

Not long after that, Adrien and Marinette were on their way to school when they noticed the bakery had shut down, the doors locked, and with no forwarding address. Marinette had been conflicted, angry at her parents for abandoning her a second time, and distressed by their sudden disappearance, worried for their safety.

Adrien was inordinately mad about their flight, cursing them for the stress they caused Marinette. Her fears were allayed, however, when she received an email stating they had simply moved to another neighbourhood. They still awaited her pleasure, and would welcome her back warmly should she decide to return to them.

Marinette cried in his arms long into the night, when she couldn’t figure out what course of action she should take. Adrien stroked her back soothingly, and advised her to take her time.

When she expressed concern that there might not be time, he suggested she write a letter, reminding her they had included their new address in their email. A letter would force her to consider her words carefully, so she wouldn’t just send them an angry rant which could be in their inbox with the push of a button. Marinette thought it over, and agreed, drafting a letter first thing in the morning.

After that, a tentative rebuilding of their relationship began.


	46. Epilogue: Gabriel

Gabriel closed out of the website and shut down his computer with a satisfied smile. He was running late, and as the future father of the bride, it would reflect poorly on him if he held up the ceremony, especially since he was to walk Marinette down the aisle.

Ever since she had entered his household, Gabriel had grown increasingly fond of Marinette. She couldn’t be more different from his dear, departed Emilie, but she possessed a fire and a passion he admired. She was also sensible and quick-witted, as well as a gifted designer, so he planned to make her the next head designer at his company.

Felix would still become the next CEO, but for now, Gabriel still had final say in who was promoted to which position.

He straightened his tie, and walked out to the car, where Nathalie patiently waited for him. He smiled and greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek, before settling in the back seat beside her. Their new chauffeur pulled into the street, and headed for the church.

Gabriel had accepted Nathalie’s marriage proposal six years prior. He was astounded to learn she had loved him for almost as long as they’d been acquainted. He accepted her after some serious thought, coming to the realisation that he returned her feelings. He was also tired of being alone, but he didn’t admit that to her.

They pulled up at the church, Gabriel exiting the car first, then turning to assist Nathalie. Arm in arm, they entered the grand structure, greeting guests and wedding party members alike.

Gabriel eventually broke away from the crowd to check on Adrien, waiting in a room down a short hallway from the entrance. He was pacing, and shaking his hands, sweat beading his forehead. His long-time friend and best man, Nino, sat in a chair, watching with mild amusement, while Felix leaned against a wall, smirking at his brother’s obvious distress.

‘What if she doesn’t show up? Just leaves me at the altar, ‘cause she realised she can do better? What if I mess up my lines?’

‘You won’t have to worry about your lines if she’s dumped you at the altar,’ Felix pointed out.

Adrien’s face turned pallid.

‘Enough, Felix, you’re not helping,’ Gabriel admonished. Turning to Adrien, he grasped his shoulders firmly. ‘She has not left you, and I can guarantee she cannot do better. You are my son. The celebrant will read your lines, so all you have to do is repeat after him. And I assure you, once you see your bride, all independent thought will vanish. You’ll be running on autopilot, and would likely dive into the Seine if he told you to.’

Adrien took a deep breath and finally stilled. Gabriel straightened his collar for him, and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

‘Ok, sure. You’re right. I can do this.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Nino cheered.

Gabriel smiled at the young men dressed in his designs, made specifically for the occasion. They looked good, and he was sure they would all do him proud.

Satisfied Nino and Felix had Adrien well in hand, he excused himself to check on Marinette’s progress.

As he passed the front doors, Tom and Sabine entered, looking about as though unsure of their welcome. Gabriel curled his lip, then smoothed his features before they noticed him approach. He had never liked Marinette’s parents, and would have preferred they had not been invited. But they were Marinette’s family, and she had insisted, though she had given them no role to play in the ceremony. They were there as guests, and nothing more.

Gabriel didn’t bother to smile, but he greeted them politely, falling back on formal behaviour, as befitted the occasion.

‘Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng, thank you for coming.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Tom replied, his smile stiff and forced.

Sabine clung to his arm. ‘Of course, we’d want to see our daughter’s wedding. It’s all she’s dreamed of.’

‘Of course,’ Gabriel agreed, nearly choking on the words. ‘If you will excuse me.’

Without waiting for a response, he continued walking. He thought the pair had some audacity, still calling Marinette their daughter. After her miraculous return from the underground, her rearing and education had been provided by himself and Nathalie. He was responsible for the remarkable young woman Marinette had become, and it galled him they still took credit, especially since they had objected to her living in his house.

Gabriel had been firm when they were children, stating very clearly what was acceptable behaviour, and what needed to wait until they were adults. They’d shared some very candid and personal conversations, and as a result, he had produced exceptionally fine young people. Furthermore, Marinette’s dream had been to become a world-famous fashion designer, something she had achieved, with his help. Marriage was a secondary goal, at best, which was something Tom and Sabine ought to have known if they insisted on still being thought of as her loving parents.

Shoving his ire aside, he knocked on the door to Marinette’s dressing room.

‘Come in,’ called a feminine voice. 

Pushing the door open slowly, he slipped his hand inside first, to give the ladies time to cover up if necessary. When no one squealed, or slammed the door, he let himself in.

Marinette was sitting at a dresser as Alya touched up her hair. Bridgette, Felix’s wife of the last three years, watched on from the window.

‘You look stunning,’ he told the room at large.

Bridgette blushed, her hand going to her still-flat belly, while Alya flipped her hair with a knowing smirk. Marinette stood, her elegant gown swishing about her legs.

She took his hands, smiling up at him, her cheeks rosy without artifice. ‘Thank you. You look exceptionally fine as well.’

‘How are you coping, while you wait? Are you well?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Lies,’ Alya stated. ‘She’s been freaking out all morning. We’ve only just got her settled.’

Gabriel gave the sigh of the long-suffering. ‘You and Adrien really are made for each other.’

Marinette gasped. ‘Is he ok? He’s not freaking out too badly, is he?’

Gabriel patted her hand reassuringly. ‘He is fine. Just pre-wedding jitters.’

‘He won’t get cold feet?’

‘My dear, he has been in love with you for the better part of a decade. He’s not going anywhere.’

As the bells chimed, everyone took up their positions. Alya and Bridgette preceded Gabriel in a swirl of pink silk, as they met up with their respective partners to head down the aisle. Adrien stood by the altar in solitary splendour, waiting nervously for the traditional wedding march.

When the music began, Gabriel held out his arm. Marinette accepted it with a smile.

‘Thank you for doing this for me,’ she said.

Gabriel nodded, then escorted her to her new life.

But he would never tell her that his true wedding gift was the successful assassination of Zhang Yu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!  
> Thank you all so much for staying with me to the end, dear stalwart readers!  
> I truly had a miserable time writing this. You know I don't like, or do angst, particularly well. But it was gratifying, all the same, to see how invested you were in the lives, and goings on, of this re-imagined Beauty and the Beast Miraculous AU.  
> Truly, I appreciate all the Kudos and wonderful comments you all left. They really brightened my day. They kept me going when all I wanted was to call it quits and move on to something silly or fluffy.  
> So, thank you, everyone. Thank you.


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